


Fragmented Tales

by PinkVomit



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Demon Dirk Strider, F/F, Fairy Tale Elements, Fractured Fairy Tale, LMAO, M/M, SRSLY THO, Well - Freeform, ayyye lmao, bully me into finishing this shit, dave strider as litte red riding hood, davekat - Freeform, dirk and jake are aboutta do a thing, dirk being himself, hes a bitter boi, jake english being a dumbass, karkat and dave WILL date, karkat as big bad wolf, more like little bad wolf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-06-01 05:24:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkVomit/pseuds/PinkVomit
Summary: When Dave is sent on an important delivery, the last thing he expects is the Wolf of the Woods to help him. Little do they both know that they'll lead each other home.





	1. Litte Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave is sent on a Journey to Derse, but shit goes pear shaped

_Only fools stray from the path_ is a phrase one would hear many times from the elders of Echid, but not many would consider Dave Strider to be a fool.

His job was supposed to be simple: deliver the basket to the King of Derse without a hitch. Make Dave’s guardian proud. _Don’t fuck it up kid_ was literally the only command he gave him this time! Dave really intended to not fuck it up but damn it was hard.

There are wolves in the woods. No one could doubt that, but the exact terminology for them varied from person to person. Some call them beasts, or monsters, or “hungry little bastards” (Bro REALLY likes the last one), and one elder even refers to them as werewolves. Only one thing was consistent: danger.

Dave wasn't scared. Or at least, he definitely wouldn’t tell you if he was. The red hood and sheathed sword just screams “I’m badass and know what I’m doing, shut up.” to any wolf even thinking about munching on his tender flesh. A message to the wolves watching: this man is DEFINITELY not scared shitless of every broken branch or sudden noise coming from the woods.

Definitely not.

Fuck.

He began the trip at dawn and now the sun was setting. Thoughts of him being trapped in the dark and dangerous woods weren’t at all making his heart race or his thoughts travel to disturbing places. Wow! How can one person be so level-headed and cool!

There was a scream in the woods. Dave’s eyes darted in the direction of it, and much like a newborn deer, he set down his things and ran towards the cry for help. He was brave- surely he was. If there were wolves attacking some sweet babe in the forest, he’d sure as hell be her savior. He’d be like, “it’s just what I do ‘round here” and she’d respond with a swoon. His bro would have a reason to be proud and Dave would actually have a real ass to brag about! A win-win situation.

Instead of a damsel in distress, there was a boy with messy hair who had his leg caught in a bear trap.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” His words reflected anger but his voice cracked and shook. Poor thing was crying.

Dave walked over carefully as to make sure he wouldn’t end up with a similar fate. “Damn. That looks bad.” The boy’s response starts with a...growl.

Oh fuck oh shit. The top of his hair wasn’t messy- those were ears. WOLF ears.

“No shit, Sherlock!” He growled out, tone immediately shifting from desperate child to intimidating. “Why not point out that the grass is green while you’re at it!?”

“Well, it’s more of a dying yellow, but go off I guess.”

He should run. Let this thing die and set up camp. Wolves are dangerous and would kill you the second they got the chance. Just move on like nothing happened.

But Dave kneeled down and started prying open the trap. The boy was failing to act tough in the face of excruciating pain- Dave couldn’t really blame him. The moment it was opened wide enough, the wolf boy leaped away. Dave wouldn’t tell you this, but he did too. The wolf boy’s yellow eyes seemed to glow in the lowly lit forest, but before Dave could even unsheathe the sword, the other fled. The forest was quiet now.

Dave returned to the path from his thankless act to a murder of crows stealing the food from his basket. Of course, he shooed them all away, but much too late- the food was gone. Not a crumb or a burnt bit of meat was left to spare. It was too late to turn back. So, poor Dave was forced to start his fire with an empty stomach.

A crackling fire in a dark forest is only slightly comforting seeing as the pain in his belly was getting worse over time. God, what he’d do for some bread.

Crackling branches were the absolute LAST thing he wanted, even further down the list was those sounds coming from a wolf.

This wolf calmly walked to Dave with something in its mouth. Something furry. Upon being dropped onto his lap, he could identify it as a dead rabbit.

He was just a little freaked out. “Is this...for me?”

The wolf nodded, curling up next to his lap and closing its eyes. An injury on its right back leg told Dave exactly who this was.

“Didn’t think you’d actually thank me...specifically like this, but who the hell knows the future.” The wolf blows out air from his nose to retort. Think of it as him saying, “Whatever jackass, just eat it. I didn’t hunt for no reason.”

Dave slept with a full stomach and woke up with a warm lump next to him. Only, that wasn’t a lump. It was the boy. He was fucking spooning the wolf boy.

Was it gay for Dave’s touch starved ass to enjoy this? Maybe a little. An acceptable amount of gay. Just enough that his bro wouldn’t give approving looks but also wouldn’t kick his ass for.

Damn, he was warm.

The wolf boy woke up and stretched, the sleepy haze keeping him from caring too much about the spooning.

Dave let him go while sitting up. “Mornin’ pooch. Should I thank you for the dinner, or was saving you good enough?’

“Shut your whore mouth,” He yawned loudly, “and don’t call me pooch. My name’s Karkat, so shove the nickname up your dick.”

“Damn, harsh.Y’know what? Just ‘cause you said it, your official nick is Pooch. Welcome to the real world, Pooch, do you want some cheese with your whine?”

Karkat growls loudly, standing up. The limps he makes as he’s walking causes Dave to get up and grab his hand.

“Woah, hey, where the hell do you think you’re going with that leg?”

Another growl. “Y’know, I can help you Pooch.”

“I don’t need your help!” He snatches his hand away quickly. “I’ll heal on my own, fuck off.”

“Uh, no? Are you asking for an infection? I’m heading into Derse, so I can get you some medical supplies.”

At this, Karkat’s ears go down. “I don’t need help from anyone, especially humans.”

Dave sighs in frustration. This dude was stubborn, but he didn’t deserve to die out here! “Listen...if you’re afraid of humans seeing you, I get it. You can wear my hood to cover your ears.”

Karkat looks down. Weigh your options here- die in the woods, or take a risk with humans. The two options given to this wolf boy could only be complicated to people like him.

“....fine. But, I’m only sticking around for my leg.”

So, the two were off: the danger of future happenstances awaiting for the future.

Bro definitely wouldn’t like this.


	2. Leashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hm, how can I make Dave's emotional health as fucked up as possible?

Trying to accurately keep track of a werewolf was much similar to attempting to keep all the ants in an anthill still for five fucking seconds. Karkat ran ahead- getting frustrated that Dave straight up said “fuck that” to the concept. It wasn’t exactly laziness. One could argue it as such, but in Dave’s case, the wolf boy was just too damn fast.

Dave refusing to run made the other a horrid cocktail that was one part antsy, two parts fidgety, mixed well with two shots of crankiness.

So, what does one do to a fussy and furry being that one can’t easily control?

You baby leash them.

Dave had lazily taken his belt and tied it to the back of Karkat’s pants so that the poor wolf boy would be left either slow or pantsless- and he genuinely hated thinking of the ladder. Still, Karkat complained.

“Why the hell can’t we go any faster!?”

Dave tugged him back to his side. “First off you shouldn’t be trying to run with that leg.”

A growl is let out from the other. Dave had ripped a bit off his hood to give Karkat a makeshift gauze, but he should be feeling at least a little weighed down by pain, right?

Apparently not, considering Dave his to tug him back again. “Dude. Calm the fuck down. We’ll get to Derse by sundown.”

“We could get there now,” he groans out while tugging against the belt “If you run!”

God fucking damn it. Karkat is walking the ever-thinning tightrope of Dave’s last nerve. He might just go “fuck it” and release him into the wild. Release him into the wild as a young and vulnerable kid. Let him go off into the dangerous woods like…like…

Dave sighs and tugs the belt. “If I let you run around and get your energy out for a bit, will you chill out?”

Karkat’s face lights up, and his tail wags in excitement. The nods he gives are borderline adorable!

No gay thoughts today, though.Only the sound of an unclipped belt and a young wolf zooming through the Lupin Woods.

Every now and again, Karkat would zoom past Dave- who sat on the trail - to make sure he was still there. Not like Dave would leave, right?

Dave leaving would be similar to something else that happened to him. It was a long-ass time ago, and if you asked about it Dave would say something along the lines of “Oh yeah, it was cool. Doesn’t really matter now though”. But it did matter. It was a scarring memory that only dug deeper into his skin when he couldn’t hear Karkat’s running anymore.

“Pooch, you done?” Dave called out loudly.

But no one answered.

“C’mon, let’s get back to the trail,” Dave called out a little louder, looking around. There was no sign of Karkat anywhere. The familiar feeling of panic rising to the back of his throat was quick to come- but Dave wasn’t about to lose his shit over this.

_No one came to look for you? Where was your guardian?_

Just push it down. “Karks, seriously, get back here.”

_Lost for three days. Where was he?_

He didn’t forget him, he fucking wouldn’t. “Karkat!?”

Dave was now rushing through the woods, searching desperately for the wolf boy. Fuck, this forest was as dense as Dave’s skull. He couldn’t have gone missing right? Karkat was a wolf! He could survive on his own, right?

_He’s a hurt kid. Who leaves a hurt kid alone here?_

Dave’s searching came from panicked to breakdown worthy. He sunk down to the forest floor and leaned against a tree. Nothing was familiar. Absolutely nothing. He was lost and scared and all alone.

_Not again not again not again not again not agai-_

A white rabbit was dropped at his feet. Looking up, Dave saw the still energetic Karkat.

“Hey fuckface, look what I got-”

Dave latched onto him and refused to let go. He refused to speak. But, he didn’t need to. Karkat was confused to hell and back, but he didn’t pull away.

“Uhhh…...you okay? It’s just a rabbit.”

“I’m fine.” Dave took a deep breath, pulling away from the other. “It’s great. Let’s just get back to the trail, okay? Don’t run off like that again.”

Karkat nods, picking up the rabbit and getting up. “So, where’s the trail?”

“....”

**Fuck.**


	3. The Yellow Tile Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Dave and Karkat are lost, they have to find a way back to the trail so Dave can deliver the package on time.

Do you ever get those moments when everything is just SO fucked up that any other fucked up things joining the absolute trainwreck of your current situation is just...accepted? Like, the house burnt down AND I just stepped in shit? Makes sense. My girlfriend just cheated on me AND some dude just stepped on my toe? Such is fate. My panic induced search for my new wolf friend caused me to get lost in the woods AND it’s getting harder and harder to hide my feelings behind a stoic and chill facade? This pretty much checks out.

 

 Dave and Karkat were now lost together. Unfortunately enough, Dave’s stoic facade was inches away from slipping through his fingers. Karkat yapped endlessly- any subject he could rant about was ranted about. Dave could only respond with short “yeah” ‘s or a quick-witted “who cares?” to keep Karkat talking. The emotional explicitness was a secret comfort.

 

“Who cares, my ass! My old pack would’ve chewed you up for saying shit like that about deer. Like, don’t trust what anyone tells you about them. They’ll kick you the first chance they get and would spit on a baby. I’ve seen it. They spit on a cub and just trotted away like the rude asses they are. Deers suck- the taste is overrated and they’re literally just the biggest assholes around here. The only real reason humans like em is cause they're pretty. They’re not even that pretty!! What makes them more attractive than everyone else!? Certainly not their attitude- ‘cause that’s fucking ugly as sin. Deers are objectively the worst animal in Lupin woods”

 

 Dave would subtly pull him along. He was listening- but if you asked it about it he’d say something along the lines of, “Oh yeah, I’m letting the windbag talk so he isn’t doing some other stupid shit.”. That would only be half true. A more accurate statement would be, “If he goes quiet, I’ll be left alone with my thoughts. If he wants to talk, let him, it’s better than him leaving me.”

 

All of a sudden, Karkat perks up. “I recognize this place!” He says, looking around the current clearing.

 

This clearing in question had a few notable landmarks- one of which being a very large tree.

 

“Good job, Pooch, you found us a ticket back to the trail.”

 

This tree was tall enough for them to easily find the trail from above. But, this was not what Karkat was focused on. The subject of Karkat’s interest was a very peculiar rock.

 

This rock was so peculiar that he didn’t even notice Dave was climbing the tree. It was smooth, aside from the dirt that previously covered its surface. Square, sharp on its edges, and tinted yellow. Karkat had never seen anything like this outside of his friend’s house.

 

Currently (unbeknownst to Karkat’s occupied attention), Dave was already halfway up the tree. He’d done this once. Survival training, y’know?

 

_How did you survive?_

 

God. Push it back, Dave needed to focus. “Airs gettin’ kinda thin up here!” Dave yelled to the currently occupied wolf boy. “If I faint, would you catch me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Damn dude, you’re so romantic. Should I get the flowers for our future date while I’m up here?”

 

“Uhhh huh”

 

“Woah, Pooch, don’t get too emotional on me.” Dave looked back down at the ground. He could see Karkat inspecting that damn rock, gathering up one's similar as he traced the dirty ground.

 

Dave, now bored with the guise of sarcastic remarks being carelessly wasted on who was basically a dog that could talk, he continued to climb till the tiny branches of the top were beneath his feet. There it was! He could see the path as clear as day!

 

He leans back, yelling to his very distracted pal. “Yo, Karks! The paths just up ahead, we got nothin’ to-”

 

As everyone but Dave knows (he never needed to climb all the way up trees like this), branches tend to get weaker and smaller the closer they are to the top. It is extremely difficult for one to reach the top and stay there- especially when you aren’t aware of the impending doom that is the wrong foot in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

All of which leads to a loud _snap_ and Dave being sent from the very top to said impending doom. The scream that escaped his throat was near vocal cord shattering. God, if this was how it all ended, he’d better have a kickass funeral.

 

Thankfully, his shriek caught the attention of Karkat. He catches him at the bottom but falls along with Dave. Gravity is such a bitch.

 

Groaning, the young Strider sits up. Karkat is just about the most perfect landing cushion.

 

“Thanks for breakin’ my fall, Pooch…” Dave rubs his back, getting off of the other. He grabs him by the sides, haphazardly lifting him to his feet only to realize that Karkat was now bleeding.

 

Obviously, he wasn’t happy about it. “Great fucking job, dickweed! Not only did you just belly flop from a high place like a mentally handicapped whale, but you made me land on my rocks!”

 

Dave looks down at what Karkat identified as rocks. The smoothed down, slightly dirty, tinted yellow rock was now broken- some of the pieces sticking out of Karkat’s clothes.

 

“Dude, that's not a rock. It’s a tile. Where the hell did you even find a tile out here???”

 

As Dave began ripping off yet another shred from his cape, Karkat points over to a trail of tiles he had not yet taken. “They looked cool, so I wanted to keep em. You’re lucky that there’s more, or I’d bite your arm off.”

 

Dave rolls his eyes. “Take off your shirt, numbnuts, I gotta take care of yet another injury.”

  


                       

 

The aftermath of Karkat getting patched up left him as an absolute grump- unsurprising considering how he was. He absolutely refused to follow Dave to the pathway until he got some more tiles.

 

“Dude, seriously. Why the fuck do you need tiles. We gotta get to the path before dark, I don’t wanna be late.” Dave followed behind the extremely determined boy. He spoke but didn’t really expect anything to sway Karkat’s actions. This was true. He gathered up some tiles despite any form of Dave’s quickly formed arguments.

 

Karkat huffs. “If I find something cool, I keep it. It shouldn’t be so difficult to grasp, but I shouldn’t give you that much credit.”

 

As Karkat finishes up his gathering, Dave’s curiosity peaks. Why were tiles out here? They trailed into a clumsy path that leads into the trees, and as Dave’s eyes began to trail along with it, his sense of urgency began to fade.

 

His sense of most things around him began to fade. No longer able to hear Karkat’s grumbling, he began to follow the yellow tile path. It lead past the trees until the tiles form a sort of road. All of this leads to a single door- standing in between two twisted trees that look as if they’re scowling.

 

This door, much like the tiles, was tinted yellow, dirty due to its time being here in the woods. Bits of it were chipped or likely scraped in the past, even its doorknob was worn down. The amber colored knob was covered in small scratches with bits of its paint being chipped off.

 

Dave didn’t realize he was reaching for it.

 

Dave didn’t know he was opening the door.

 

“Dave, will you actually fucking listen to me!?”

 

The world comes back into focus, him now being able to feel the wolf boy’s hand on his shoulder.

 

He breathes out as if he wasn’t actually breathing before then. “Oh, shit….sorry man. I didn’t hear ya.”

 

“Like hell you didn’t!” Karkat barks out, his ears down in a mix of deep-rooted anger and concern. “I was shouting at you for the past ten minutes. You’re the biggest fucking hypocrite, y’know that, right!? You criticize me for taking time away from us getting to the path before dark but proceed to walk off to bum fuck nowhere while acting like I wasn’t yelling at you the whole time?? I think the fuck not!”

 

Dave pauses. He never heard any of that, nor did he think his little walk took ten minutes. “...what?”

 

“Why were you ignoring me!?” Karkat grips tighter onto his shoulder. “Were you really that mad at me for picking up the tiles??”

 

“What?? Karks, no, I wasn’t mad at you.” Dave spots a twinge of change in Karkat’s expression. Something like...relief? He wouldn’t know. “I just...I dunno. I just saw the path and then I was here.”

 

Karkat lets go of his shoulder, causing Dave to fully realize how tightly the other was actually gripping him. “You’re an absolute douche.”

 

Dave chuckles. “I know. C’mon, let’s get back on track, okay?”

 

Sighing, Karkat nods. He grabs Dave’s arm and begins to walk away with him.

 

_Creak._

 

The door opens. Both of the boys look at each other, at the door, then back at each other. Somehow- despite neither of them being telepathic -they both clearly had the same thought: _What the fuck._

 

Suddenly, it felt as if they were being sucked into the empty void that was the door’s other side, and before they could fight it they were gone. It was then that Dave realized something that he absolutely feared would happen.

 

_This delivery is gonna be so fucking late._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took longer to make!!! Then again, its a longer chapter than the others.
> 
> Comments and theories are super appreciated. I also take constructive criticism, so don't hesitate to leave that in the comment section as well.
> 
> Question of the chapter: What do you think is behind the door?


	4. The Good Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Karkat encounter an extremely good girl.

Now falling at an extremely rapid speed towards an unknown bottom, Dave Strider was now forced to think about his inevitable descent towards death. God, so many things he has and hasn’t done led up to this shit. Where did he go wrong? Maybe taking this mission wasn’t his best idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so curious about a stupid path. Why was there even a path!? Or a door!? God fucking damn it, this situation was just too fucked up to physically comprehend.

 

The vertical corridor that leads to the unknown was similar to a high-class manor- adorned with odd paintings, vintage tables, likely expensive vases, and equally likely expensive tea sets. Of course, Dave couldn’t quite catch what the paintings exactly depicted. It was a little hard to focus on all the intricacies of hole art when you’re plummeting to the bottom of said hole while screaming.

 

Screams mostly came from Karkat. He clung to Dave’s arm in disparity, more than likely having the same thoughts as Dave.

 

_We’re gonna die here_

 

That thought became even more realistic- specifically upon the two looking down and seeing the door at the bottom.

 

Karkat and Dave held each other tightly, bracing for the bottom. They awaited the impact of wooden shards piercing their skin and breaking their bones- an absolutely horrible death or a horrible batch of wounds.

 

But that never happened.

 

The wind of their speeding fall slowed all the way to a gentle float, and the door below them swung open. The land was seen below. It was a green hill adorned with flowers, and at the edge of it was a small cottage. Once the obviously shaken up boys reached the bottom, they finally took notice of their savior- A young lady with long black hair and green eyes.

 

She drops her raised arms, the two completely reaching the ground as she does so. “You two scream really loud, geez!”  
  
That voice was familiar to Dave. Actually, everything here was vaguely recognizable. Her voice, her face, her home….has he been here before?

 

Dave stands up, holding onto the shaken up Karkat. “Well, you’d scream too if you fell down that hell hole.”

 

In response, she smiles. That friendly smile strikes a bit of comfort in Dave.

 

“I never said I blamed you, silly! I’m just happy to see you again!” The girl clasps her hands together, sparkly shit flying off of her skin. What that glitter? Is she seriously covered in glitter?

 

And that thing about seeing him again...what the hell. Karkat noticing Dave’s confusion, his ears move back to their usual downward dip.

 

“Who in fucks name are you, how do you know Dave, and how the literal FUCK are we still alive!?” He clings tightly onto Dave’s arm, the other patting his head in the hopes to calm him down. This only worked a little.

 

Thankfully, the girl’s friendly demeanor doesn’t waver. “It’s easier to talk over tea. Come on in, I just finished up making lunch!”

 

There’s an extra pang of confusion in both the wolf and the boy as they looked at each other. Lunch at sundown? No judgment to those who have a fucked up sleeping schedule- but this girl didn’t exactly radiate “my sleeping schedule is so fucked that time isn’t real and all hours of the day could be breakfast” energy.

 

On the way to her little Cottage, Karkat looks up at the sky. “What the hell….”

 

“What?” Dave talks quietly to him, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Are we in some sort of bubble???” His voice dips, stepping to the side to hide behind Dave. “How the fuck are we getting back to the surface if we’re trapped in a bubble!?”

 

Dave thought the statement was just too weird to not be a joke, even though it absolutely wasn’t. He looked- and there it was. A large pink bubble wrapped itself around the little cottage hill. The door was at the top of it all, facing parallel to the door while still being higher up than the trees. Karkat’s question was valid- how the fuck are they getting out of here!?

 

Her cottage smelled like honey and tea leaves. This scent was even more prominent when they actually stepped inside, seeing as she immediately handed them tea.

 

“Sti, sit!!! I’ll get us some snacks too, so make yourselves at home!” Her excited grin widened as she turned away to head to her kitchen. Karkat was hesitant to sip the tea. Upon seeing Dave chug it down with absolutely no hesitation, he squints.

 

“Why are you okay with this!?” He asked, putting down the drink and sitting on the girl’s particularly plush couch. “You’re acting like the fact that she knows you is completely normal when it’s not. It’s not fucking normal. We don’t even know what’s in that stupid cup!”

 

“It’s Chamomile tea with honey, actually!” She shouts from the kitchen. Karkat really needs to work on his volume control.

 

“Calm down, Pooch.” Dave talks quietly, sitting down next to Karkat and holding his shoulder. “I dunno much about this place, but I feel like I know her. I feel like...y’know, we can trust her. I get it, you don’t like to trust humans, but I think she saved us somehow.”

 

Karkat looks away. “How’d she even do that?”

 

“Do what?” Karkat jumps as he quickly realizes the girl was now in front of them with a tray of colorful snacks.

 

He stammers, coughs, and awkwardly crosses his arms. “How the hell did you make us float to the ground like that!? Are you telepathic?? Is the gravity here just fucked up?”

 

She giggles, sitting down on a small couch chair thing (covered in cushions, much like the couch). “I’ll just introduce myself! My name is Jade, and I’m a witch.”

 

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” Karkat growled. At this, Dave lightly smacks his arm. “Ow! What was that for!?”

 

“Way to be polite, dumbass. She kept us from dying, pretty sure a bad witch would’ve let us kick the bucket.”

 

Jade leans back, taking a deep breath. “Don’t worry, I understand the mistrust. There are a few witches that are particularly nasty that give the rest of us a bad reputation. I can’t say that I’m completely good, considering I got banished into this pocket dimension, but I’d never intentionally hurt anyone.”

 

“Wait, what?” Dave raises an eyebrow. “I’ve got a lotta questions, most of which have to do with you and your shit having to do with the weird shit you just told us.”

 

“Well….alright! If you really want an explanation, then I’ll be expository as heck!” Instead of having a boring explanation, she waves her hands- colored dust rising from pots and floating forward into shapes. “I was there when you were born, and met you again when you were older. Strange how fate works, huh?”

 

The clouds of dust form into the shape of a woman- clad in black lipstick and beautiful platinum blonde hair. She was smiling.

 

“Your mother commissioned me to make a potion to help her labor be healthy and painless. I was one of the best witches in Derse, so I accepted. Sadly, though, potions are very finicky.”

 

It now showed the woman's tongue. Dave almost reeled in shock when he saw a mark on her tongue that matched his own.

 

“Ever since I messed up that stupid potion, your family was cursed. The mark on your tongues is a symbol of it. So, I was banished for treason. This pocket dimension is rigged so that if I ever leave this bubble, my years will catch up with me…and…” Towards the end, she looks down, lightly stirring her tea with her finger. Her dust transforms into an image of her- walking through the very door they fell out of. The moment she does, the dust falls back into their pots.

 

Her living room is now dead quiet. How does anyone even respond to that? Learning that the nice girl you met cursed your entire family, is banned from the real world, and could die if she left isn’t exactly the most pleasant thing to hear.

 

Then, Karkat spoke. “How come the door’s still here if you can’t even leave?”

 

“Death is always an option, I guess.”

 

God damn it.

 

“Damn...that’s pretty harsh, I’m sorry.” Dave awkwardly scratches the back of his head, looking down at the ground. “I didn’t even know I had a mom till now, holy shit…”

 

Jade chuckles, placing her tea on the coffee table. “It’s okay. Sometimes I get some randos who spot the witch trap and get caught here, so it’s not always lonely! Speaking of which...this isn’t your first time being stuck here.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

_No one came to look for you? Where was your guardian?_

 

And like lightning, the dots begin to connect. Her voice, the familiar room, the comforting smile, the door…. He’s seen it all before.

 

_Twelve years, seven months, and 6 hours exactly from then. The training with Bro today went bad. He slipped up- getting startled by him and accidentally slicing up Bro’s ankle. Dave didn’t mean it. One could assume he did, but the little one was only five. What really matters is how Bro felt. In this case specifically, the fact that none of their training together mattered in the long run when he scared the living shit out of his kid pissed Bro off._

 

_He was silent. He was stoic. Dave could clearly see that he really messed up. But, he couldn’t apologize. Lesson one was “no hesitation or apologies”, and risking pissing his Guardian off even more wasn’t an option. So, Dave guiltily followed behind._

 

_Then, Bro turned to him. “Wait right here, and don’t move. I’ll be back.”_

 

_He said he’d be back._

 

_He said that three hours ago._

 

_Dave was a good kid. He stayed there, shaking, cold, and terrified. No, not terrified- petrified. These woods are dangerous; there are wolves in the woods. The Autumn breeze brushed against his skin like icy needles. So, as the sun slowly began to set, Dave began to grow desperate. Bro wouldn’t just leave him, would he?_

 

_He wouldn’t._

 

_He couldn’t._

 

_He did: Dave realized this when he woke up on the forest floor. It was even colder, darker now due to the sun having set. He stood up, looking around in a panic._

 

_No no no no no, he had to go home before the wolves found him out here! Dave ran as fast as his legs could take him, but after a while, the town lights still hadn’t shown themselves in the distance._

 

_It was then that Dave- cold, injured, and tired - broke down. Stop crying, goddamn it, get up! Striders don’t cry. Not for pain, not for sorrow, not for anything.  No wonder why he left, who’d stay for a weak Strider?_

 

_Dave stood, despite all of his body telling him not to. Just follow the path. Not that hard._

 

_Then, he saw the tiles. They seemed to show up out of nowhere- seeing as yellow tiles are much too obvious to just not notice at first._

 

_As many people say, history repeats itself._

 

_The young boy fell into her world, floating down because of her kindness, and finally being able to speak because of her patience._

 

_Her name was Jade._

 

_She patched him up, fed him, and helped him calm down with stories and warm blankets. Jade was a fantastic storyteller; every story she told came with a beautiful show of colored dust. For once in his five years of life, Dave finally felt safe._

 

_He felt safe enough to tell her about why he was there in the first place._

 

_“No one came to look for you? Where was your guardian?”_

 

_In town, probably. Waiting. Or, maybe not. Maybe he could be searching now. Maybe staying in the woods was a punishment or a method of survival training. Who knows?_

 

_But the explanations for Bro’s absence were shooshed.”You should go to sleep, Dave. I’ll send you back home when you wake up.”_

 

_It was a two-hour nap that Dave desperately needed. Sure, he was tired, but two hours was all he needed in the end. Jade lead him outside and handed him a small golden pearl._

 

_“This’ll send you back. All you have to do is tell it where you wanna go and stomp on it- then poof! You’ll be home!”_

 

_Dave took it, admiring it for a second before placing it on the ground. “Thank you.”_

 

_When Dave came home, everything was normal. No massive panic, no missing posters, nothing. The town calendar showed that he had been missing for...three days? No, that couldn’t be it. Why didn’t anyone look for him?_

 

_He came home to a passed out Bro. Nothing about him indicated that he’d gone outside in a while- every time he did, he’d be dressed with cuts and scrapes from his hunting trips._

 

_Did Bro care? Did Bro search at all within those three days? Did Bro forget him?_

 

_Dave decided to push that thought down._

 

“You’re the girl who…” Dave paused. None of this made any sense, yet at all fit together. There were still so many unanswered questions he had. But, instead of asking, he continued. “You saved me. I thought it was all a dream…”

 

Jade moves to the kitchen, coming back with the same kind of pearl he remembered. “I think you’re gonna need this, Dave.”

 

It’s gold, completely smooth, and radiates a sort of strange energy. Despite it looking gold, it felt very light- possibly being hollow on the inside. The dulled shine of it catches Karkat’s full attention.

 

“The fuck is that?”

 

“It's a travel pearl. They’ll take you to any location as long as you know where that location is!” As Jade speaks, Dave takes off his hood and puts it on Karkat (who proceeded to struggle against the action much more than necessary).

 

They all head outside. Jade, being the caring girl she is, hugs both of the boys tightly. Dave places the pearl on the ground gently, to which Karkat holds onto his arm tightly. Exchanging goodbyes, the young Strider finally turns to look at the boy he fell into this mess with.

 

“Well, Pooch, looks like we’re gonna make it to Derse on time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall, so I do regular chapter updates on my other social media thingys. If you wanna stay caught up with chapter updates, the best way to do so is through my Instagram @fuchsiavomit. (Yes, I know, it's a shameless plugin). But seriously, it's the best way to send me questions, ideas, theories, and fanart. For real, I spend most of my time waiting for your feedback.
> 
> Thank yall so much for reading! Toodles!


	5. Royal Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Derse, land of the highest highs and the lowest lows.  
> Dave finally makes his delivery. Adventure over!!!
> 
> ....right?

Derse- a dark and bustling kingdom of twisted streets and high crime rates. The city’s social class is separated by uptowns and downtowns. It is what it sounds like. Pretty simple shit, lower class lives on lower levels and the rich lived at the top. Derse's entire kingdom was built upon a series of hills.

 

When the smoke from their travel pearl finally subsided, Karkat went into a loud fit of coughs. The sudden movement from his abdomen and head cause the hood of Dave’s cape to nearly fall off. This, of course, would be a very bad thing. As it is with most fantastically large kingdoms primarily inhabited by human beings, being outed as a sapient creature isn’t the best idea. Yeah, the werewolf program in Derse is at least somewhat progressive, but on the other hand real fur is expensive; there are stories out there of unlucky Lupins getting gutted in the ghastly gutters of the Derse ghettos.

 

Dave wasn’t the kind of friend to just let his pal be put at that kind of risk; he kept holding the hood in place for him.

 

“Easy, Karks. Don’t wanna get caught at the entrance, right?” Dave soothed him down until Karkat’s coughing faded away. It was mostly due him also back patting the other, he supposed.

 

Once he does ease up, however, it doesn’t last very long. Karkat’s eyes meet the city and there is a shift under the hood.

 

“There’s too many people here, Dave.” Karkat whimpered. “I don’t think I can do this shit. No offense, but being some bitches coat isn’t exactly my current life goal.”

 

Sighing, Dave scratches the top of his head. This seems to calm him down. “I promise that you won’t be skinned or stolen for ransom, okay Pooch? They can sure try, but they’ll have to go through me.”

 

“Coming from you, your statement is not that comforting.” Despite Karkat’s words, his eyes soften up. Dave is able to lead him through the Kingdom gates.

 

The entrance starts up mid hill- the middle-class market roaring with life. There are more fancy looking clothes being sold than food, and the fact that Karkat didn’t have any food to faun over was both relieving and disappointing. Why? Well, if you asked that, Dave would tell you something along the lines of, “I don’t want Pooch over there to run away for a chicken wing and get himself killed. I mean, food would be nice, but c’mon, he got entranced by tiles of all things. I’m pretty sure a chicken wing would lure him”. This was only half true. A more accurate statement would sound something like, “seeing him happy would make this delivery a lot less stressful, but if he wags his tail we’re fucked. I’m not aboutta let him get killed”.

 

Hiding these blatantly uncool thoughts is getting harder and harder. But, he was a Strider. That whole song and dance came with the title; it was difficult but it would make one’s self-control much stronger.

 

Karkat was entirely nervous. To those who knew what he was, the fact that he was a werewolf could be overlooked with how much he was shaking. Basically, he seemed more like a werechihuahua- sticking very close to Dave’s side, panicking for a second each time a person brushed past him, struggling not to whine at the absolute terror he felt with every action he took in this setting.

 

Thankfully though, nothing can really keep Karkat from talking. It seems that being nervous only adds to his chattiness. Dave decided to actually respond to Karkat’s ramblings by rambling back at him.

 

“What in the ever-loving fuck are corsets? Like, I can understand that hu- ...people collect pretty and useless items for a sake of its own, but that specific item confuses this shit out of me. Like, they HURT. Why would anyone wear something that hurt them???”

 

“Dude, how do you even know what a corset is? Do you just watch people from the edge of the woods? Or have you tried one on? Ha, thinking of you trying to put on a corset is actually kind of funny- all I can think of is you somehow hog tying yourself on accident.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Strider, I’m not some spastic douchebag with a thing for ropes. My friend brings shit from different towns and I learn about them.”

 

“Pfft, you have friends?”

 

“Oh my GOD, can you let me finish!?”

 

“Jesus shit, okay Pooch, tell me more.”

 

“Thank you. Anyways, my friend Kanaya put me in one of the corsets she got from town and it **hurt** , like extremely badly. It felt like my intestines were being juiced out from the sides- and the worst part is that she kept droning on about how ‘in’ they are in the town she got it from. So one, she was telling me this obvious bullshit- of fucking course they’re in, where else would they be - AND she got so lost in thought that I was stuck in the damn torso cage for an hour! Who the FUCK does that???”

 

“You. You do that.”

 

“I don’t believe you for a fucking second, Strider.”

 

“You can’t suppress the truth, Pooch. Seeing as I have to guide your ass whenever we’re walkin’, you can’t say shit on getting lost in thought.”

 

“I do NOT.”

 

“Motherfucker, I am literally pulling you along right now.”

 

“.....god damn it.”

 

“See? Gotcha. Can’t suppress the truth. Anyways, I’m pretty sure corsets are for testin’ out whos the strongest. ‘Weed out the weak’ they say, squeezing their internal organs and causing permanent damage to their rib cages. Bitches are really out here destroying their torsos to assert dominance. Can’t say I’m much better since I’m pretty good in a scrap.”

 

“I understood none of that, thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome! But what I meant is that I’m trained to fight. My old man taught me everything I know. Got me holdin’ a sword since age five, albeit when I was five all I was taught was dodging and stance ‘cause I wasn't old enough to land a hit on the ol’ bastard.”

 

“Why the fuck were you fighting at five!? Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t those the years hu-.fuck- people are still learning how to read!?”

 

“Well, yeah, but gotta start somewhere, right? Can’t grow up not knowing shit and expect me to be a goodass fighter with no practice. Besides, I’m real good at it nowadays. Bro taught me well.”

 

“Jesus shit, who the fuck is bro!? You keep pulling out names from your ass as if I actually know these motherfuckers but whoopty-fucking-doo! Much like with most cultural norms, I know absolutely nothing! Please, for **once** , could you possibly fill me into this prominent void of knowledge that you ever so kindly left for me?”

 

“Bro’s my dad.”

 

“I’m sorry, what”

 

“Yeah, Bro doesn’t really like the term ‘dad’. Says it sounds too authoritarian in his opinion.”

 

“Sounds like he’s trying to avoid responsibility in my opinion.”

 

“Shut up, he’s a good guy. He’s actually the guardian of where I live- a goddamn hero. The bastard’s tussled with beasts before.”

 

Karkat fiddles with the hood as they passed over a bridge. This bridge arched over a rushing river. “Beasts?”

 

“Yeah. One of em was taller than my house, actually. Bulky too- you could see the muscles under the fur. Bro took it down in one fell swoop. Can you believe I’m his kid???”

 

Karkat freezes up, and it is only until they reach the stone stairs of a higher middle-class hill when Dave realizes that Karkat isn’t at his side anymore.

 

“Pooch? You comin’?”

 

“Beasts. Furred beasts taller than a house, is that how you see them!?”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“That’s a fucking WEREWOLF, asshole!” Karkat growls. Dave steps back over to his side, but Karkat turns away. “What am I to you, an it!? Cause newsflash; your dad killed someone like-”

 

Dave covers his mouth before he can finish, pulling him into a phone box to get away from the crowd. Karkat struggles and hits his arms and bites before he can successfully get a word in.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?”

 

Shit. When Karkat escapes his grip, he looks fucking livid. Dave takes a deep breath. “Keeping you from blowing our cover, Jesus Christ. Look, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

 

“It doesn’t **matter** if you didn’t mean to.” Karkat opens the door to leave and when Dave tries to grab his arm, he tugs his own away.

 

Karkat is leaving him, “Karks.”

 

Karkat isn’t responding. “Karkat!”

 

He isn’t even turning back. “Karkat, I’m sorry!”

 

It is only then that he looks back. The movement is hesitant, but gradually he fully turns back to the other. For once, Dave is the one to run to his side. He holds his arm tightly, Karkat doesn’t try to fight it. “Can we talk?”

 

“.....” Sighing, Karkat leads them back into the booth. “Do you really think of me like that?”

 

“Nono, fuck no. Karks, I’d never actually...fuck, I didn’t even know my dad killed a werewolf. I’m sorry, what I said sucked ass and I should’ve been more careful. I didn’t even know that’s what werewolves looked like, I’m the biggest dumbass known to man. Like, how did I manage to live for 17 years, I don’t get it. Man, I should probably just-”

 

Karkat puts his finger on Dave’s lips. “I forgive you, dumbass. Stop fucking talking before we end up trapped in a phone booth due to social courtesy waiting for the conversation to end.”

 

Dave (retaining his totally unchilled mind cause holy fuck he’s not used to this gesture what the fuck, why does he feel so flustered??) nods. “Yeah, yeah. I gotcha. Let’s get back on track, mkay?”

 

They escape the confines of the phone booth together. Karkat holds his hand gently as the head up the steps. They’re about to tread on royal grounds before Dave pulls them to the side.

 

“Where are we going??” Karkat asks, confusion fading as soon as he looks up. Low and behold, there was a large sign that simply read “INFIRMARY” in large blue text. If he didn’t have a high tolerance for pain, Karkat would’ve felt a large pang of pain ache within his injured side and leg.

 

“I told ya, I was gonna take you here to take care of your injuries. You can run through pain, yeah, but not through an infection.” Patting his back, he leads the nervous wolf boy inside.

  
  
  


Karkat and Dave now walk upon the velvet dressed stairs. Thankfully, Karkat only complained a minimal amount as his injuries were being treated; the whole time he was being patched up, Dave was relentless in seeing to it that neither the doctor or the patients saw the other’s wolfish properties. Now, his wolf friend would actually heal and not get fucking sick! Perfect!

 

He just hoped that Karkat wouldn’t make good on his promise of only staying for his injuries.

 

At the top of the pale lavender steps was the royal gates: adorned with dark violet rose thorns, pearls, and barbed wire laced at the top in a way that made the wire look like stretched out strings.

 

Few people were allowed at the top- this being the guards, the royal family, the personal delivery boys, and (as an apparent new addition to this list) a girl with reddish-brown hair wearing red glasses. She approaches the two, her cane guiding every step.

 

“King Ampora is waiting for you! Remember: the river is always a better option.” She giggles.

 

None of that made sense. The blind girl passes them and heads down the stairs. Both of the boys look at each other in complete confusion, as if saying “ _the fuck was she talking about?_ ”

 

Of course, this would be answered very soon.

 

The guards at the front allow the dear delivery boy in, Karkat being allowed in under the guise of him being “A really good boy”. It’s only by lady luck herself that those guards had a soft spot for other werewolves- many wolves in derse taking up knighthood status to avoid being skinned. Karkat was now allowed to lower the hood and accept pets from the guards. Eventually, though, the very well received pats had to end with an abrupt pull to the side from Dave.

 

“C’mon, we gotta go.” He said, pushing aside feelings he can’t quite define. Karkat nods and returns to his less friendly and protective outer surface.

 

What do you imagine the inside of a castle looks like? To rephrase, what would you think the inside of the castle of a grand and gothic looking kingdom would look like? One could imagine that the gate was telling of the Castle’s interior aesthetic, but you would be very wrong. Instead of roses, pearls, and a graceful macabre sort of atmosphere, the inside was one of pure hubris. Statues, paintings, scattered riches- this was the chosen look of the Ampora family. Fuck, a marble statue of King Ampora was currently being shivved into existence.

 

“Dave…” Karkat whispered.

 

“Yeah?” Dave whispered back.

 

“I hate this.”

 

“I hate it too.”

 

The throne room was very similar in style. Karkat was just about done- seeing their smug faces on the walls and crafted in stone was bad enough, but seeing the same smug pricks in real life was somehow worse. Their clothes, jewelry, and hair all said one thing- arrogant.

 

There was the douchebag himself: King Ampora. He sat upon the golden throne, tapping his finger against his knee quite impatiently.

 

“Did you bring it?’ He asked, less like a question and more so as a command.

 

Dave nodded, bowing. Karkat stumbled before he could properly bow, only just now realizing that was what you were supposed to do with kings.

 

The King takes his long-nailed finger (to which was adorned with rings so gaudy that Karkat almost puked) and gestures for Dave to step forward. “Give it here.”

 

Nodding once more, Dave stepped forward and opened the basket. To hide it, the old woman who made the product wrapped it in thick cloth. Upon its unravel, a bottle of pink liquid was handed over. Dave still had no idea what it was.

 

Ampora inspects it for a moment before glancing back to Dave. “To whom I owe the thanks?”

 

“The woman who made it didn’t have a name, sir.”

 

“Not of the commissioner, the deliverer.”

 

“Oh, wow. Uhm, it’s Dave Strider, your highness.”

 

Pausing, the King’s sharpened nail scratches the surface of the bottle. He hands it off to a servant who quickly scampers off as the King stands and as the atmosphere begins to tense- for everyone but Dave and Karkat knows what that name means.

 

“Strider…..and I thought the oracle warned me of a threat…”

 

Guards begin to ready their weapons, Karkat growling and gripping Dave’s arm. “Dave, time to bail.”

 

Upon turning around, it seems that the exit is blocked off.

 

“To think, the man would send his child to take the crown. What a fool..”

 

The guards begin to close in with a single snap of Ampora’s fingers. There is little room to work with, little time to think. At that moment, Karkat did something he wanted to do more than anything in the world.

 

He pulls Dave back and knocks over a marble statue of King Ampora. Its large enough to squish a few unlucky guards. Karkat rushes to a large stained glass window pane, shattering it with his elbow and escaping along with his Dave.

 

Down the velvet path, down the lavender stairs, through the town area, all the way up to the bridge before they can cross it. It is then that they realize that they’re surrounded. Fuck, no way out.

 

It’s either get captured and killed or drown.

 

Dave’s mind washes over with fear on both ends. Neither of these options sounded good! It was as if the universe was working its way to screw him over, and as the guards start to rush for the bridge, he holds Karkat by the waist and rushes for the river.

 

After all, the river is always the better option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope yall like this chapter, my dudes! It's so much longer than my previous chapters, so thank you for your patience with me. Next chapter, we'll be covering a related but very different storyline. Don't panic though! we'll be back to our regularly scheduled boys after we get a glimpse of our other story.
> 
> Here's the question of the chapter: who's story will we follow next?


	6. Amber Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile.....

Striking a balance between Bravery and Stupidity is a very difficult thing. This was especially true in regards to those of you out there who set themselves on fire for a challenge of sorts. Sure, simple logic could tell you that setting yourself on fire is generally a bad thing, but on the other hand, doing something dangerous is fun as long as you don’t die or get hurt. Speaking of which, setting yourself on fire could lead one to die or get hurt.

 

Jake English had a very large issue with that distinct line between brave and stupid. Every adventure, every tussle, every dune or dungeon, and every petty bar brawl left him with a sizable amount of wounds to patch up. He didn't really mind. After all, this wasn’t how he was cursed to die.

 

He was cursed to die at the hands of a loved one. Though most people would take this as a terrible fate to be trifled with, the young English took this as an opportunity for extremely dangerous adventures. After he ran away from home, there weren’t many opportunities for the Universe to try and kill him.

 

The Universe tried very hard to find a way to off him. Staying home for the holidays? He avoids accidentally being killed by choking on his sister’s Turkey by eating a sandwich he made earlier. Sleeping around with some mermaids? Sneak sleeping meds in the fish they eat so he can escape before they get too clingy. Accidentally falling in love with an asshole because he accidentally tried to steal his very cursed crown? Well…

 

Now at the rotting gate of a dilapidated manor, Jake found a brand new adventure: loot whatever the fuck was left inside this place before it fell under his weight. There were signs at the front that only added to his current intrigue, ones that would be very ignored because the thought of doing something dangerous was just too exciting to ignore.

 

Was this brave or just flat out stupid? To Jake, there probably wasn’t too much of a difference.

 

One could argue that it was just flat out stupid to ignore signs that straight up say “don’t enter, your life depends on it” or “avoid at all costs”, but then again Jake never gave up on a good thrill. He wasn’t gonna die, so what’s the point of worrying?

 

A door being bolted shut was the first thing he was faced with. To work with this, he simply found an abandoned metal rod and used it to pry the door open. This worked- however, resulting in Jake being assaulted with a cocktail of wood and dust particles.

 

Inside, it was less dusty than expected. Books, chalices, dirt-stained toys, and other objects were scattered along the floor tiles of the ground level. Jake had the idea of a small group of squatters he could potentially help out- but then again, there was little to no noise in the manor. Aside from something dripping upstairs, no footsteps or chattering was heard anywhere.

 

With every step he took up the old stairwell, a creak was heard, and as he reached the top, his finger pricked something ghastly.

 

“Ow! What the blazes!?”

 

His finger graced a particularly sharp edge of wood in such a way that blood began to ooze out f the scratch. It was annoying and painful, but he’d bear with it until he headed back into a place with a supply of band-aids.

 

Two of the first rooms Jake peered into were pretty, but boring due to his own personal goals- a single bathroom with a tub that looked more like it was a well, and a bedroom with nothing but blankets piled around the room. But then, he stumbled upon a much cleaner doorway, no musty smells or rotten wood was spotted on it.

 

Even more curious was the inside- adorned with contraptions that Jake had never seen before. Most of these objects replicated the shapes of limbs or eyes or complete bodies. He pressed the button of an arm- the fingers of it clenching.

 

Jake was taken aback. “Gadzooks! Well, I’ll be damned, it moves. What a spectacle… “

 

As he drew closer and closer to the end of the room, something poking its way out from under a beige sheet caught his attention. Pointy, obvious, and very badly hidden are words one could use to describe it. Why bother hiding something in such a terrible way?

 

He uncovers it. Something that badly hidden shouldn’t be worth anything, but his expectations were immediately shattered. Amethyst crystals, golden metal, rose thorns engraved within it’s rounded off edges.

 

A crown.

 

Jake lifts it up, admiring the glint of the gems in the sunshine leaking in through the boarded-up windows. He hit the fucking jackpot! A fancy ass crown from Derse’s much less gaudy days.

 

How’d it end up in a place like this? If you asked Jake, he probably would respond with, “Fuck if I know! A ghastly dragon can’t fit in a place like this, so there’s not a speck or atom out of place to worry about.” which lacks both hindsight and analysis.

 

As he moves to push the crown into his bag, his cut open finger brushes against the smooth gold; blood is quickly smeared onto it.

 

This wouldn’t be much of a problem if he didn’t feel such a heavy dread wash over him at that moment. The light in the room began to dim, and the air around him grew colder by the second. The contraptions- previously facing innocuously in nonspecific directions -all made a slow turn to look straight at him. Could they actually see him? Jake didn’t know. Either way, he was scared out of his wits.

 

His feet began the pull toward the door. Actually, it was more like he was being dragged by an invisible force. Scratch that, it became an unknown force throwing him out of the room of crafts and right into the bedroom of nothing but blankets. He tripped, caught himself, and immediately tumbled onto the floor, his head bumping into a lump in the blankets.

 

A lump that was beginning to rise.

 

Oh no.

 

Maybe the manor having been owned by a dragon wouldn’t be so bad. After all, Dragons don’t glare like that at anyone. They also tend to not have such a bitter aura around them.

 

After the blankets were gone from him, Jake immediately noticed how odd he looked. Tall, amber slitted eyes, sharp teeth, dark horns that curled to the back of his head- all of which contrasted with his ash blonde hair. He was handsome, despite how fucking scary he was.

 

And damn, he was fucking scary.

 

“Do you have a death wish?” His voice is deep, cooled down with a slight growl at the end of his sentence.

 

Jake began to stammer and try to get his shit together enough for him to make a coherent sentence. Instead of letting him have the chance to respond, the other grabs Jake’s wrist to retrieve the crown.

 

He’s shaking in anger. “....you're a thief, aren’t you?”

 

"Oh, boondoggles..." Jake sighs under his breath. "I...well, it seems you've caught me red-handed- very literally I may add."

 

He snatches back the crown, wiping off the blood. Strangely, although its fresh, it doesn’t leave. He sneers, looking down at him.

 

“Great...just fantastic. Congratulations, you just got yourself cursed.”

 

“I...what!?” Oh god damn it, he already had one curse to avoid like the plague.

 

The other nods, placing the crown onto his head and over his horns. “You’re cursed to owe me a favor for your crime. Was trying to steal my birthright really worth it? “

 

Jake is about to argue, maybe curse him out and get ready to rumble. The only thing that stops him is the sudden glint in the other's eyes tell him  _if you insult me, I'll make your life a living nightmare._

 

"No, sir."

 

Sighing, the demonic boy pinches the bridge of his own nose. “Don’t...don't call me that. My name’s Dirk.”

 

“Oh! Oh, nuts in a bag, I’m sorry! How ungentlemanly of me, I never introduced myself!” Dirk raises an eyebrow at the particular choice of words Jake had just coughed out but allows him to continue. “I’m Jake English, I hope I can make it up to you with this favor!”

 

Dirk, pausing and making sure he was in the same time and the same place, shakes Jake’s hand. The complete and utter fear that had consumed him had seemed to vanish completely.

 

Only, it hadn’t. He was still fucking terrified. Still, a gentleman must be polite even in the face of pure, unadulterated fear. Jake belaboring the subject of politeness was a simple cover- DIrk very well had a power and presence about him. The faster he completed this favor, the sooner he’d be able to go off on his own adventures.

 

He wouldn’t have to worry about Dirk becoming a loved one any time soon!

 

“So, what kind of favor will I be doing, chum?”

 

Dirk thinks for a moment, closing his eyes before coming to his own conclusion. “I need you to assist me in breaking my own curse.”

 

_His own curse? Is that why he had the horns? Maybe under all that scary shit, he was a human._

 

Whatever the case was, Jake was already prepared to get it done. “Alright! Let’s be off then, Dirk!”

 

Jake begins to run down the stairs, Dirk being too late to stop him. “Wait wait wait wait no, don’t-”

 

“TALLY HO!!!!!’

 

Both boys are immediately launched towards each other, Jake being thrown back up the stairs and crashing back-first into DIrk’s torso. The crash was especially bad, considering that Dirk was launched forward at top speed.

 

“Ow ow ow ow, Christ on a bike, what was that!?” Jake rubs his back, helping himself up.

 

“If you would’ve let me finished…” Dirk groans, catching the breath that he lost in the crash, “...I would’ve told you the details of this curse and the favor.”

 

Jake finally slowing down allowed the explanation to flow freely. Apparently, walking any further than 3 feet away would launch them back towards each other- there was no escaping the favor or the demon he was trapped with. Jake also wasn’t allowed to harm or kill the other (he had no intention of doing so in the first place, but it was good to note). Apparently, the demonic attributes weren’t a symptom of the curse he was under. Dirk was destined to lose everything he ever loved and fully succumb to his faults.

 

“Sounds ghastly….so how do we break it?”

 

“Gotta kill the bitch that caused this. I’d do it, but I’ve never been able to track her down.”

 

Jake lit up. A revenge mission? To break a truly tragic curse? Where was the signature line, he was ready to sign the fuck up! “Right-o! So, who’s the unlucky villain we need to take care of?”

 

“Jade Harley.”

  
… _f_ _uck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta have subplots somewhere AMIRIGHT BOOOOOYS.
> 
> Anyways, hope Y'all enjoyed this shit! I'm planning for us to be on this storyline for about 3 chapters before we get to our other batch of big gays.
> 
> Question for the Chapter: How well do you think Jake is going to cooperate after this chapter?


	7. At the Cost of Self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake doesn't want to help Dirk. However, he quickly realizes what will happen to him if the Curse isn't broken.

It isn’t uncommon for Jake to end up five feet deep in complete and utter bullshit (only once was this phrase meant literally- Jake doesn’t like to talk about it), but this certain situation was the last thing Jake expected. What can one do when given the decision of staying cursed with this asshole forever or killing a close family member?

 

Complain.

 

If he couldn’t escape his fate, he could at least make it as unpleasant as possible. So, he did. It was growing very obvious that he was stomping on Dirk’s very last nerve as they trekked through the forest.

 

“Gee holly Jiminy, I sure do love the concurrent bullhonky happening at this moment on this day right now! It’s not like every inch of my aching mandible would rather not chew your ear off, I just loooove yapping from dusk to dawn to you! Did you know unjustified murder is a little thing one could call illegal? I sure didn’t! Aw shucks, I sure hope we’ll murder an innocent woman in time for supper! Maybe we could have some fucking tea and cookies over her corpse if we really wanna emphasize how awful we ar-”

 

“Can you please shut your fucking mouth.” Dirk- who had been walking slightly ahead of him the entire time -turns his head to eye him in his lividness. The cold anger radiating from him makes Jake’s blood run to an icy chill. This had been the first time Dirk had actually responded to his heckling within the time they left the manor.

 

Although, fear wasn’t enough to stop Jake. “I’d rather not, actually! Y’know, there’s probably a reason why you haven’t found her after so long. Maybe the ol’ girl finally found a way to filter out randos who come through her door! Maybe- just maybe - she realized a loony such as yourself would be out to commit the old neck twist on her and has a physical block on you!”

 

Jake doesn’t notice the odd tree the two are now approaching within his angry ramble. For the better of his sanity, Dirk finds it to be a good idea to finally just cover his mouth.

 

“Shh. As much as I love hearing your horribly complex vernacular without any breaks, I need to focus.”

 

Promptly, Jake is forced to shut up and notice something else. The markings on the tree were intricate and thin- looking much unlike the engravings of a normal carving knife. It looked as if one was to take a tool as thin as a sewing needle with the strength of a carving knife and carved it with the steadiness of….well something really steady, one could assume.

 

Dirk’s other hand brushes over the engraving. Strangely, the amber glow of Dirk’s eyes brightens and the symbol carving emits a similar shine. Cracks, snaps, and extremely loud creaks are heard as the tree begins to open up. It reveals a hollowed out hole to probable death.

 

And Jake's eyes light up.

 

“Alright, I need you to stick with me before we go in or-” before Dirk can finish, Jake runs past him and jumps down- hooting and hollering the entire way down. Due to the curse, the Demon Prince is forced to plunge down along with him. Dirk is thrown face first into Jake’s chest; Jake shamelessly smiling and screaming in joy. All the while, Dirk is trying to shake some sense into the absolute fool.

 

“WOOOO!!”

 

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, THIS WAS IN NO WAY A GOOD IDEA!”

 

“I BEG TO DIFFER, THIS IS THE BEES KNEES!”

 

“WE ARE PLUMMETING TO THE UNDERWORLD, YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THIS!”

 

“SOUNDS LIKE FUN!!!”

 

“WE’RE GOING TO DIE”

 

“NO I’M NOT!!! I WON’T DIE LIKE THIS!”

 

Dirk clenches onto the collar of Jake’s shirt, throwing him onto the wall of hell’s corridor. The momentum brings Dirk in the same position and allows him to hold onto Jake while digging his sharp claws into the wall. This struggle along with the screaming leaves him out of breath.

 

“I...don't...CARE...if you won’t die like this. It’s a stupid move. You’re gonna end up a fucking vegetable by the time your curse catches up with you.”

 

Dangling by the back of his shirt, Jake climbs up to meet Dirk’s gaze. “I, for one, try not to let that stop me.”

 

“Do you just...jump off of random high places with no second thoughts?”

 

“Why would I need to?”

 

Lead by Dirk, Jake makes his way up the wall against its rough and borrowed in edges, up and up and up until they reach a smoothed out ledge. Getting up onto the ledge makes Jake realize that this entire time there was a fucking stairwell they could have climbed down. Despite this, Jake would have probably still jumped off.

 

Dirk helps him stand up, pulling him up by the arm. “So you don’t end up in deep shit. The bottom is covered in spikes, and I don’t think you wanna end up getting impaled. It might not kill you, sure, but I know damn well that it hurts.”

 

Jake’s face shifts, thinking. Yes, there were still consequences to his dangerous actions, but he never truly stopped to ponder about the extremities of said actions. One could assume that it should just be common sense- jumping off from high places into the unknown isn’t a good idea. Why would he do it?

 

To live life to its fullest, one could also assume.

 

“I can’t say that you don’t have a point, but what I can say is that if I am to look death in the eyes, I may as well do it in style.”

 

“In style?”

 

“Yeah! Give her the ‘ol razzle-dazzle, if you dig my jig. Do everything in the book and come to the underworld a goddamn legend! Oh mama, the list of doo-higgery they’ll write for me on my gravestone; why, I’ll have a gigglemug the whole time they send me down.”

 

“I literally have no idea what you just said.”

 

“Y’know, do things that are down-right bonkers, have everyone remember me, having the cake and eating it too, that whole song and dance. I’m living my best life cause I want a life worth missing!”

 

At the bottom of the steps, Dirk grips Jake’s arm. “Well, if you wanna keep living that best life, I’d suggest sticking to me for the duration of our time down here.”

 

“Why? I mean, why are we down here? Obviously, I’m required to linger around your general area because of our whole curse shindig, that’s simp-”

 

Dirk covers his mouth again. “I’m getting something important for the mission from a friend. Just stay quiet, stay close, and please for the love of Megido below stay alert.”

 

Silently, Jake nods.

  
  


Underwhelming is a word one could describe the entrance of hell. To be completely honest, Jake expected pits of fire, screams of the damned, skeletons duking it out on a battlefield with dragons trying to gobble them up- normal death stuff. Instead, he was immediately greeted with a quiet hallway and a river running so deep that the bottom didn’t seem to exist. There was only a man standing within a boat that floated above the river’s abyss. His clawed and wrinkled hand outstretched, he seemed to be asking for a boon or collateral. Dirk reaches into his pocket and deposits two gold coins. This form of currency was much unlike anything Jake had ever seen; Jake had been anywhere and everywhere, but no coins ever _hissed_ in the hand of the exchanged. The Ferryman silently nods, allowing them inside the boat and starting to row them across.

 

The river is clear enough to see what hides beneath its waves, unfortunately enough. Creatures with an odd resemblance to Dirk wander beneath them. Jake had heard stories from his grandmother- in which, most children are told stories to scare them into behaving -of the demons in the Underworld: mindless, bloodthirsty, violent, and absolutely terrifying little beasts only caring to eat and kill. As punishment for their crimes, many awful humans became these demons.

 

“May I inquire something, Strider?” Jake whispers, grabbing Dirk’s hand before he can cover his mouth again. “Please, it’s important.”

 

Sighing, Dirk puts his hand down. “Go ahead.”

 

“I thought flesh and blood can’t enter the Underworld. I know you can enter cause, to be frank, you’re a demon, but what about me? Not to rag, but I am absolut-”

 

This time, Dirk silences him with the same heavy stare from before. It drives a chill down Jake’s spine.

 

“If you don’t want to get eaten, shut your mouth. If you don’t want to get kidnapped, shut your mouth. It’s a simple job, English, all you have to do is literally just stick by me and not do anything- I am fully aware that you hate me and your job, but _please_ think this shit through before you get hurt. I’m begging you.”

 

Silence. A dock is seen just up ahead.

 

The quiet is awkward, and as they exit the boat, Jake is at an honest loss of what to think or say. Echoing footsteps of an empty corridor loom and ring loudly, deafening any corrective thoughts or useful banter.

 

It almost made Dirk miss the taunting.

 

Entering through rusted doors, Dirk and Jake enter a room covered in piles of treasure and odd weapons- illuminated by the dimly lit torches hanging from the wall. Just up ahead is a much fancier set of doors that Dirk immediately presses his hand against upon reaching it.

 

However, there is no familiar amber glow- nor any intricate designs that become magically illuminated. There is only the sound of both sets of doors locking and a low rumble on the ground.

 

“She can’t be fucking serious...” Dirk groans angrily, pounding on the door with his fist clenched. “Damara, open up, it’s me!”

 

The low rumbling only grew stronger by the second, Dirk almost falling. Jake was beginning to notice what the treasure was actually hiding- seeing something rise from the gold and stare at him with its dead, empty eyes.

 

Without breaking eye contact, Jake tugs roughly on Dirk’s sleeve. “uuuUUUUH DIRK, I THINK WE HAVE A PROBLEM.”

 

It is only then that Dirk turns around. The ghastly beast’s maw opened in a high pitched screech, swinging its heavy arms to hit them. Jake braces himself for a surely devastating impact- but it never comes.

 

Shaking, breathing heavily, gritting teeth in pain; Dirk held the beast’s hardened arm with the strength and will of a God. His feet were being pushed back every second that passed. Jake notices his eyes glowing brighter than ever.

 

“J-Jake...the sword…” He says, voice rasping. There is a loud crackle of magic as the brightness in his eyes flicker, blood beginning to drip from his mouth.

 

Jake quickly spots a sword sticking out from the piles of gold, running to it before stopping abruptly. He can feel the curse starting to lightly tug at his body.

 

“Dirk, I need you to trust me!”

 

“I-is NOW really the t-time-”

 

“I can’t get it if you don’t listen!”

 

Almost stumbling, Dirk regains his full grip. There is a distinct pause, a quick shift in attitude, and finally- a nod.

 

“Jump to me!”

 

Dirk, with all his might, pushes the arm away from him and leaps towards Jake. As he does so, Jake jumps back- initiating the curse and propelling both of them all the way to the sword. The pull of the curse makes them both slide through the treasure as Dirk gets a grip on the sword; He holds Jake’s hand and swings from its hilt- throwing Jake back in the direction of the beast and launching himself back. Momentum and speed in Dirk’s sharp movement allowed the blade to pierce straight through its skull. With one last screech, it falls limp. Its remains transmute to nothing but dust.

 

The Amber Prince falls to his knees, the color of his eyes seeming to bleed onto his skin. Jake catches him by the shoulders.

 

“Woah there, chap, don’t give up on me now…” Jake smiled softly. A quick analysis of the boy before him revealed something odd: Dirk’s appearance changed. The dark of the tips of Dirk’s horns crept toward the beginning of his forehead, his fingertips became an inky black. Somehow, Dirk managed to seem even more bitter in his exhaustion.

 

_Succumbing to his faults_

 

A pang of pity rang through Jake’s heart. His faults came into a physical form, and by pushing himself, he was becoming more and more demonic. Being a demon wasn’t a symptom of his curse- it was a part of the punishment.

 

It had all begun to make sense- the anger, the fear, why Dirk was so set on breaking the curse, why he hid himself in a manor; he wasn’t a demon, he was _becoming_ a demon. He’d become just another mindless monster.

 

Coming to this somber conclusion, Jake pulled Dirk up and slung the other’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on, now. We can’t break that curse of yours with that attitude, now can we?”

 

Dirk seems confused, exhaling slowly. “I thought…”

 

“You thought what? That I’d leave a man behind? Do you take me for some sort of Charleston, Strider? Of course I wouldn’t betray you!”

 

They head towards the door, Dirk pressing his hand weakly against it. “No...no. I just didn’t think you’d help me.”

 

“Sorry to say, my good man, but you’re sorely mistaken.” Jake laughs.

 

With a loud and stone-like drag, the door opens before them. Dirk and Jake begin to step inside.

 

“...And by the way, I don’t hate you. I hope you understand that.”

 

It is slow, but something resembling a half-smile crosses Dirk’s face.

 

“...Yeah. I don’t hate you either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF i was really afraid of this chapter turning to shit, but I'm loving how it's going. Pwease give me feedback, I give special hints of the next chapter to everyone who comments. 
> 
> Here's the question of the chapter: Do you pity Dirks situation?
> 
> Thank yall sooo much for reading. TOODLES!


	8. Goodnight, Sweet Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Jake make their way to Prospit after a quick run in with Damara. Jake learns that some people are worse than they seem under the surface.  
> (TW: slight gore and violence)

Train Stations tend to be a tad scummy, but this could feasibly take the cake. If there was a contest of shitty train stations, this would definitely win first place — squeaky benches with molasses (or  _ something _ similar in texture) smeared on their wooden planks, a lobster sized cockroach that let out a loud  _ hiss  _ as the two boys entered the area, and to top it all off, the train itself was late.

 

There was only one thought going through Jake’s head as they sat there; one that refused to be held back by anything that could potentially stop him from speaking.

 

“I think I’d rather walk.”

 

“We’re not walking to Prospit.”

 

Damara had given them train tickets to Prospit. This wouldn’t be too much of a problem if she wasn’t a demon witch made of nothing but spite. Damara is the kind or person who just  _ loves  _ giving a certain demon prince trouble. She very well could’ve given the two some travel pearls, but no, that would be too easy! Dirk needed a challenge! 

 

“What if she’s selling us a dog? Those tickets look mighty sleazy, if I do say so myself.”

 

“She’s not selling us any dogs, first off. Second, they’re real. She wants to challenge me, not straight up lie to me.”

 

Jake, being quite anxious, agitated and awkward, crossed his legs as they fidgeted. What he’d give to  _ do  _ something. Literally, anything would be great! Standing up and sitting down so much more entertaining than the utter horseshit he’s had to put up every since he met Damara.

 

God, Damara.

 

She was terrifying. Calling her an intimidatingly sexy demon witch (which is literally what she was) didn’t do her justice. Much like Dirk, she had a presence about her: a deadly stare, directly contrasting with her alluring makeup. It was only by some miracle that she didn’t pay too much attention to the poor human.

 

Aside from the condescending giggles and sideways glances, Jake was all but nonexistent. 

 

Damara had told Dirk of a seer, under the alias “Unsigned”, hiding in Prospit that could tell them where Jade’s Witch Trap hid. It was fantastic news that Jake really didn’t care for. Even if he was loyal, offing a family member still rubbed him in all the wrong ways. Jade, even though she was technically his great great great great grandmother, was much like a sister. She would never forget to send magic packages for birthdays and holidays. Twice every year, Jake would receive a gift that he didn’t even know he wanted, each present coming with a lovely little letter latched onto it. It was as if she was always there- listening and wanting only the best for her family. With all that love and kindness, was this truly how she was being repaid?

 

Jake could only sigh, looking back up at Dirk while thinking to himself. It took him a while to notice, but Dirk always looked as if he was in pain. It was as if his entire body was trying to fight off his current condition. Dirk looked tired, as if at any moment, he could very well drop dead unless he pushed himself to keep going.

 

Was it really fair? This whole curse with its conditions was for lack of a better term complete horseshit; being put in a position where you could either kill an innocent woman or allow yourself to suffer eternal pain as a mindless demon wasn’t exactly funky fresh. 

 

Dirk takes a deep breath, leaning back in his seat. “Damara isn’t all that bad, you know.”

 

“You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

 

“I’m really not. She’s kind of the only one who gave me a chance.”

 

“She almost got us killed, you ninny!”

 

Dirk shoots a glare in Jake’s direction, and Jake shut his mouth.

 

“....She met me when this whole thing began. Before I even looked like this.”

 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Jake began, pausing for a moment to be sure that Dirk was ready for a question, “what happened that made everything so lopsided for you?”

 

Dirk simply chuckles. The ground rumbles beneath them, smoke filling the air as the train approaches.

 

“I’ll tell you later. We gotta get on.”

  
  
  
  


The inside of the train, by some twist of fate, was even crustier than the outside. Jake still would have rather walked especially considering how he would be stuck in this moving sardine can for the next 24 hours. A service woman, speaking in a breathy whisper every time she spoke to them lead them to their seating room. She was kind and offered them snacks, paying no mind to Dirk’s horns with a genuine smile. None of the other passengers seemed as friendly. Instead, they eyed Jake with disturbingly silent stares. Was it suspicion? Fear? Jake couldn’t tell; everyone’s faces seemed so blank and unreadable.

 

Jake makes sure to lock the door when they enter their room.

 

“I really don’t like it here, Dirk. They're all staring at me like they wanna put me in a pine overcoat!”

 

“I still don’t know what that means, English.”

 

“I’m not off my kadoova, right? They all look like they wanna put me six feet under!”

 

“Ohhhh, that’s what you mean.” Dirk sits down in one of the lounge seats. “As long as you’re with me, I won’t let them hurt you.”

 

“So they do?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Wanna kill me!”

 

Sighing, he pats the space next to him. Jake looked down, huffed for a moment, then compiled

 

“Listen. They’re demons. We’re on a demonic train. They want to kill you, but I promise I won’t let them, okay?” Dirk pats his shoulder, which gave Jake some slight reassurance.

 

It almost completely worked, too.

 

As the train passed through trees, tunnels, towns, and tiresome things of the sort, the hours seemed to carve away at his psyche like a rusted spoon on oak: slow and painfully awful. Stepping outside wasn’t an option. Every now and again he’d see the shadow of a person step in front of the door and linger. They’d knock, wait for a good minute, then leave. Strangely, this had happened about ten times before Jake lost count. He couldn’t bother Dirk, for he had long since fallen asleep. Jake had to admit complete and utter defeat- he was  _ so fucking bored. _

 

Dirk mumbled in his sleep. Jake wasn’t sure what he was saying, but he had definitely looked distressed. Still, waking him would be really fucking rude; Jake English is many things, but ungentlemanly is not one of them! If Dirk needed to rest, he’d let him rest, goddammit! It didn’t matter if Dirk was now clinging to the seat, nor did it matter that the mumbling turned to talking. He’d let this motherfucker sleep to his heart’s content!

 

“Please, just fucking  _ stop _ .”

 

Okay, maybe it mattered. Jake moved to pat his shoulder, but Dirk sat up before he could do so. He’s gasping for air, looking around frantically, and shaking like a leaf. 

 

“Woah there, old boy! You’re alright!” Jake catches Dirk’s attention, patting his back gently. Oddly enough, Dirk seems to lean into the touch. He almost rests his cheek on Jake’s shoulder before pulling away.

 

“I’m fine. I’m okay, you don’t need to coddle me.”

 

Jake raises a brow. “Now, I wouldn’t say I’m coddling you, more so I’m giving you the ‘ol pret-n-pat on your backside.”

 

Dirk seems to catch his breath. Ever since he woke up, he had held himself with crossed arms, rubbing up and down. The room wasn’t cold.

 

“...You can talk about it, you know.”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

 

“Like arse there’s nothing to talk about! You’re shimmying like a tree in winter, there has to be something wrong here.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter, just leave it alone.”

 

“Dirk, you can’t just-”

 

“I said leave it alone!” Dirk’s sudden shout rings around the small room. He sinks back down, covering his face with one arm. 

 

Jake, having already sat down by now, puts his hand on Dirk’s head. He doesn’t fight it. “...Alright. I won’t push it. Rest easy, my friend.”

 

With that, Jake move’s to go to the longe seat across from Dirk. Before he can do so, however, Dirk grabs his hand.

 

“Wait.”

 

“Is there something you need?”

 

“Can you…” Dirk, now realizing how weird it sounds in his head, trails off. “...uhm.”

 

“Can I what?”

 

“...stay? I’m not trying to impose or anything, I mean you can do whatever the hell you want, I frankly don’t care if you wanna sit somewhere else. I’m just asking cause it seems like you’d be-”

 

Jake covers Dirk’s mouth. He’s almost shocked by the gesture but quickly shuts up instead of arguing, allowing Jake to calmly say, “If that’ll help, then of course.”

 

He now lays beside him, Dirk quickly falling asleep. The movement of the train is almost like a lulling rock- the slight push of movement weighing on Jake’s chest. Or, was that weight from something else? He wouldn’t know. What he did know, however, was the familiar feeling of gravity pulling down his eyelids and tiredness washing over him.

  
  
  


_ Dirk ran away from home. He was only five years old when his mother disappeared, and at that age, he couldn’t do much but sit miserably in his hopeless situation. His aunt Rosaline took him in, but would never aid in finding her. _

 

_ He didn’t need her help. He didn’t want her help. _

 

_ All he needed was a spellbook and carving knife. It wasn’t too difficult to create a door to the underworld, save for the minor slip-ups and unsteady hands. Hard or easy, the door opened for him. _

 

_ If his mom was dead, maybe he could visit her. _

 

_ Dirk never made it inside the home for good souls. Instead, Megido herself found him. _

 

_ “Child, your life isn’t over yet. Why are you in my home?” _

 

_ “I’m looking for my mom. Is she down here?” _

 

_ First on her face is pity, then realization, and lastly a sneer of disgust. _

 

_ “Are you the child of Strider and Lalonde?” _

 

_ “Yes, I am.” _

 

_ Disgust turned into anger. “Do you really suppose I’d allow you to find your wench of a mother!? Someone with no respect for the laws of this universe!? You are a horrible little roach, and will be punished for your foolishness.” _

 

_ Dirk was taken away and didn’t return to the surface. He lied in a cursed tomb, locked up until his 13th birthday. _

 

_ When it opens, the first thing he saw is what seemed to be a smaller Megido. The girl spoke in nothing but tongues that Dirk couldn’t understand. He was able to deduce only two things: her name was Damara and she was a friend. _

 

_ Damara was a good friend. Dirk taught her how to speak English and in turn, she taught him how to live like a demon. As the years passed, horns grew from his forehead and his eyes began to glow. Every game they played made the demonic features grow ever bigger. _

 

_ Sometimes she’s a bad friend. Other times, she’s terrible to everyone but Dirk. It was like a gamble- Damara could either challenge him to any of her life-threatening games or disintegrate servants that tried to interrupt their conversations. She had shown him how to use demonic magic, speak in tongues, and even how to fight. She became his everything. _

 

_ Until the day when her games went a little too far. _

 

_ Damara stood over a fallen crowd. Their blood was splattered on the stone walls. _

 

_ “Damara, you can’t keep doing this. These people did nothing!” _

 

_ She smiled and shrugged. “I fixed the way they were looking at you.” _

 

_ “You shouldn’t just kill people!” _

 

_ “You’ve done worse.” As she stepped forward, her heel sunk into a man’s skull. The loud squelch made Dirk cringe. “Don’t you remember? The fires, the plagues, all those innocent people?” _

 

_ He looked away. “I’m not talking about this.” _

 

_ “That town full of innocent faeries? Remember how they drowned? That was you, Dirk.” With a smirk, she moved his head so she could stare him in the eyes. He kept his eyes shut tightly. _

 

_ Her smirk began to fade. “Dirk.” _

 

_ Dirk didn’t respond. _

 

_ “DIRK. DO YOU REMEMBER!?” She screamed at the top of her lungs, slamming her steel-toed heel onto his foot. He cried out loudly and in the process of trying to deal with the pain, he opened his eyes. _

 

_ There were fires. Sick people ran along the street. It was his fault, he was a proud monster. A horrible beast that couldn’t lose anything because he had nothing left to lose. There are poor humans with bubbling skin that popped and splattered against the town walls, painting red. Dirk did this. All of this was him. There were flooded cities. Corpses that lay in the water were bloated and rotting and do you remember? All of the people he murdered. It was no one’s fault but his do you remember? Damara was there to see it do you remember? She was there do you remember? Always there with him do you remember do you remember do you remember do you remember do you remember do you remember do you remember? _

 

_ “Please, just fucking STOP!” Dirk shoves her back, moving away from her quickly. “I never wanted to do this! I never wanted to be stuck down here!” _

 

_ Damara was livid from Dirk’s stubbornness, but she somehow kept her demeanor cold. “...you never wanted to be stuck down here...huh?” _

 

_ Dirk nods. There is a pause and slowly, a grin spread across her cheeks. Damara let out a cackle: it was wild, loud, and absolutely heartless. _

 

_ It took her a moment before she ceased laughing. “Fine. You can leave! You can come back when you realize how much you need me.” _

  
  
  
  


When Jake woke up, he could see Dirk sitting at the end of the bed with his head in his hands. He was…

 

“Dirk…?” Jake flocked to his side, grabbing Dirk’s shoulder. Tears that were once welled up in his eyes were quickly wiped away. “Oh, Dirk…”

 

“You saw it, didn’t you?”

 

“...yes.”

 

“I’m a fucking monster, Jake.”

 

“No, no you’re not.”

 

“Don’t lie to me. I killed so many people. Innocent people died and it's no one’s fault but mine. Fuck, I’m even making you kill your own family so I can break this stupid curse. This is so  _ wrong _ , even if I broke the curse it wouldn’t fix what I’ve done.”

 

Jake gulps. “Dirk…”

 

“What!? What could you possibly say!? That I’m a good person? That it's not my fault? Because none of that is true!”

 

“Do you regret what you did?”

 

“YES. I regret everything I’ve ever done, every action, every life, every breath, everything. Is that what you wanna hear, Jake? Cause that’s not gonna fix it either.”

 

Jake covers Dirk’s mouth, tears dripping down his fingers. “Then you can redeem yourself.”

 

Dirk removes his hand. “I’m not a redeemable person. Hell, how would I even manage that?”

 

“Atoning bad deeds isn’t impossible. After all, I don’t believe that you’re hopeless. If you can regret, then you can grow.”

 

“It’s impossible for me.”

 

Dirk and Jake grow quiet. Jake decides to take the opportunity to wrap an arm around him. With a deep breath, Dirk spoke up.

 

“Where would I even start?”

 

”...maybe start by sparing Jade.”

 

“I don’t want to kill her, not anymore.”

 

“Then let’s start there. Maybe not slaughtering the ‘ol girl will get you on the right path.”

 

Dirk chuckles half-heartedly. “Yeah... maybe.”

 

Sometimes, all can be well. Sometimes, the world is in the right place at the right time in the right mood. After all, nothing is truly impossible. What is impossible, however, is those intimate moments to last forever.

 

There is a knock at the door and a pause. Unlike the other times, they knock again. Again and again, they pound on the door until they’re trying to kick it down. Dirk quickly stands in front of Jake, unsheathing his sword. Jake gets into a fighting stance. The manly bravado quickly drains away as the door opens, seeing too many pairs of glaring yellow eyes.

 

Dirk’s eyes flare up in a familiar spark of demonic magic, and Jake braces himself to stay as close to Dirk as possible in the immediate confrontation. His first move is to push everyone staring back. They scream, claw, and hiss, but not at Dirk. This was for Jake. Thankfully, Jake was more than ready to aid his friend. He had taken one of the handy daggers from one of the demons and used it to lighten Dirk’s load and thin out the crowd. This didn’t work for long; more demons left their respective rooms and began to surround the two. Taking the L, both Dirk and Jake pushed back and ran to another train cart.

 

The lock that Dirk placed on the door wouldn’t last very long. There was a large opening that most trains had for storage carts like these- with them approaching a train tunnel they had no time to think before jumping off.

 

It was strange how Dirk held Jake’s hand and lept out without a second thought. It was strange how Jake felt so much fear, even having done things like this over a million times. Fate loves role reversals, doesn’t it? 

 

There is a strange change in Dirk’s eyes as they are violently thrown down a trash covered hill and Jake doesn’t seem to realize why. He doesn't realize why Dirk suddenly shifted their position or why Dirk held his body away from him.

 

That is until they reach the bottom.

 

Jake opens his previously tightly shut eyes, still being held up by Dirk. First, he sees the shock in Dirk’s now dull eyes. Then, he notices what Dirk saw that made him do this.

 

A sharp, wooden stake stabbed straight through Dirk’s chest.

 

“Oh- oh my God, Dirk!” Jake shifted to rest his hands and knees on the grass, only to feel a sudden searing pain. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed how bad his legs got busted in the fall.

 

Dirk coughs, blood sputtering from his mouth. “...fuck…”

 

Jake, pushing away the pain in his legs, tries to pull Dirk off the stake. He cries out in pain and Jake can hear awful squelches and crackles of bones from his chest.

 

“Come on, come on, come on! We’ve gotta get you some help!” 

 

Jake stops when he feels Dirk grabs his wrists. “It's okay.”

 

“What!? No, it bloody fuckin’ isn’t, I’m getting your ass to a hospital you zib!”

 

“Jake, just stop…”

 

“No! I’m not letting you die, not like this!”

 

“Please.”

 

“You didn’t have to do this for me! It isn’t fair!” Jakes shouting breaks into sobs, his lowering himself closer to the other. “Please, please let me help you…”

 

Dirk struggles and coughs, but manages to press his hand shakily to Jake’s cheek. His thumb wipes away a tear.

 

“You can leave. Y-you can be free, okay? Don’t worry about me…”

 

“You should’ve let it be me! Not you, god damn it!”

 

“What kind of monster would I be if I didn’t let you live?” Dirk laugh is weak, growing quieter until it’s gone. 

 

Dirk has stopped talking, breathing, and holding Jake’s face. 

 

It takes a moment for the emotions to process. “...no no no no NO NO!”

 

No amount of shaking and crying can bring back the dead, nor does shouting at the top of his longs for whatever God there is to take it back. Still, Jake can try. He screams and shouts until his throat is raw and his broken legs can no longer prop him up. The only friend he could manage to keep in his life is gone, what can one really do about that? 

 

Pain becoming too great to handle, he lies next to Dirk. His vision is fading quickly, either due to blood loss or his body trying to shut itself off- Jake doesn’t notice the difference.

 

What he does notice is soft footsteps in the grass, an approaching stranger, and a kind voice, sounding more distant than it truly was as the world around him goes black.

 

“Are you okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fucking hard to write. I straight up rewrote it completely five days within the production. Good Night Sweet Prince indeed, huh?
> 
> Question of the Chapter: Do you think that Dirk is redeemable?
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, my dudes! I await your comments with baited breath.


	9. I Almost Made Them Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does that hit too close to home, Dave?

_Dave already knew he was dreaming. When the world starts off fuzzy and reality swims, it is the obvious tells of his dreams becoming lucid._

 

_His dreams weren’t always his, though. Having shared a home with his father for about 17 years, it was often that their dreams merged as one. Dream casting ran in the family. Usually, Dave’s conscious would end up in someone else’s. It was rare for him to have his own dreams._

 

_So, when he finds himself in an unfamiliar place, he knows that this wasn’t his mind._

 

_The room is neat, save for the pile of junk on a study desk. Posters for romantic plays hung against the wall, the curtains looked untouched save for some fraying ends, and there was a very bad drawing placed in a golden picture frame. Much unlike Dave’s room, this one felt like a home._

 

_From outside the bedroom door, Dave can hear people talking. The ensuing conversation pulls his ear against the door._

 

_A posh feminine voice asserts sharply. “It is much too dangerous, you’re not going!”_

_There is a growl. The familiar slight rasp of Karkat’s voice speaks up. “I don’t give half of a shit if it’s dangerous! If I can find them, then maybe-”_

 

_“They don’t care. They’ve never cared, don’t you understand this!?”_

 

_There is a loud bark. “Shut the fuck up!”_

 

_“Don’t you DARE talk to me like that!”_

 

_“It doesn’t matter if they don’t give two shits about me. I’m gonna find them and learn how to control myself!”_

 

_“You’re doing fine!”_

 

_“You think that every full moon for me is FINE!?”_

 

_“Okay, well, shredding the trees isn’t alright, but you’ve never killed anyone!”_

 

_“What if I do? What if I fuck up someday and end up killing people? I’ll become someone’s stupid bear rug in a hunter’s trophy room. Fuck, I’m already a monster as it is, so I might as well-”_

 

_“You’re not a monster, Karkat…”_

 

_“...” Dave can hear the sound of shuffling, and a door opening._

 

_“Please...please don’t do this.” The woman’s voice shakes gently, sounding as if edged to the verge of tears._

 

_“Bye, Kanaya.”_

  


When Dave comes to, he’s still in a place he doesn’t recognize (albeit very different from Karkat’s dream room). The bed is soft, the air is cold, and something heavy weighs on his chest.

 

It’s Karkat.

 

Shit shit shit shit fuck shit fuck this was not expected and Dave nearly flips his shit being so close to Karkat. Seriously, were they asleep like this the entire time? It was as if fate itself wanted to find oodles of varying ways to make his life as low on the Bro-Disapproval scale as possible! That or Karkat was just as touch starved as him. It wasn’t as if Dave didn’t enjoy the contact- in fact, he hoped Karkat wouldn’t wake up too soon so the affection wouldn’t end.

 

The initial tomfoolery of Dave’s internal monolog is sadly irrelevant to the problem at hand: where were they?

 

Upon turning his head, the question above might as well have been answered with flashing lights saying “PLOT DEVICE”. The ember haired, red glasses bearing, blind young lady they had seen at the castle steps slept in a chair beside the bed. At least, Dave assumed she was sleeping. She was sitting up straight and her glasses made it hard to see her eyes. However, the snores she made in that odd state hopefully proved that she was unconscious.

 

Hopefully. She may have been snoring to fuck with Dave.

 

As Dave began to try and shake Karkat awake, he could hear the snoring make a distinct stop.

 

“Don’t try that, he’ll wake up on his own.”

 

“Oh shit, you’re up.” He turned back to the now awakened girl before him. “Sorry if I woke you up, man. Just trying to get up my friend.”

 

“Yes, your thoughts were SO loud that it interrupted my very well needed slumber, you’re a disgrace and I deeply regret letting you in here.”

 

Dave awkwardly laughs.

 

She keeps her face stone cold for only a moment before bursting into laughter. Her smile is wide and toothy. “I’m just fucking with you, Dave Strider! I’ve been up, snoring like a wild beast to see if you’d fall for it, and you did!”

 

“Oh shit, you got me.”

 

“I really did get you!!!”

 

“Heh, yeah.”

 

Her laughing subsides, wiping a single tear from her eyes and flicking it away. “You’ve been in a coma for about three days now!”

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

“That was not a joke, you’ve been asleep for three days now, and without my gift of future vision, you would have long been buried beneath my service dragon’s outdoor bungalow.”

 

Dave is at an honest lost for words, having not processed anything she just said.

 

The girl laughs at him, standing up. “That was also a joke! Bungalows don’t exist yet.”

 

God. Who even IS this girl? What’s a bungalow? How does she know Dave’s full name? What’s with her tendency to joke at inappropriate times to hear his reaction? There are too many questions, so much so that Dave’s head starts to hurt. As if on cue, she holds her head and hisses in pain.

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll start answering, don’t get your amygdala in a twist!” Groaning, she rubs her temples. “I’m Terezi Pyrope, the local Oracle of Derse. I can read minds and see into potential future thought processes and what they can cause. Usually, this means I see the ideas that result in inventions, war strategies, and important actions. Think of it as a psychological pathway sort of thing.”

 

He understood most of that. With the mental process reading, she very well could’ve read into a future where he was deciding to jump into the river or turn himself in, the mental weight of that decision was potentially daunting if Terezi hadn’t stepped in. On the flip side, though, he still didn’t know what a bungalow was. Perhaps it was some kind of sauce.

 

“It’s not a sauce.”

 

Okay, it wasn’t a sauce.

 

Terezi approaches the door, shooting Dave a wide smile. “Karkat’s about to wake up, I’ll let you two lovebirds have some privacy”

 

“Wait wait, we’re not-” Before he can finish, she steps out and shuts the door quite suddenly. Dave can hear her laughter from behind it.

 

As promised, Karkat begins to stir. Dave takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever touch-based confusion there may be in regards to their current physical position. There is no yelling. Without the yellow glow of his eyes, his red irises show relief as he adjusts himself to hug Dave around the neck.

 

“Dave!!! Thank fuck, I thought you were dead!” He exclaims, excitedly rubbing his face into Dave’s shoulder. He is immediately squeezed to hell and back.

 

“Woah, easy there, Pooch.” Still, he laughs. It’s strange having someone miss him like that. “Tryna strangle me or somethin’?”

 

“It’s called a fucking hug, dickwad, I was worried!”

 

Ah, yes. No matter the affection, Karkat was at least consistent. The soft and protective nature could almost be downplayed by his aggressive words and untrusting nature if it weren’t for how strongly his tail wagged. He pulled away with hesitation, looking up at Dave with an expression that he couldn’t quite read.

 

“You okay?” Dave asked

 

“I’m fine, but what about you?? You made us jump into a fucking river only for you to pass out and make me pull your sorry ass to shore! I thought you died.”

 

Dave gulps. Oh, right! The whole reason he’s here right now is because Dave found it to be extremely compelling to throw them both into the river instead of allowing Derse the simple satisfaction of taking them into custody. It was truly a split second decision, based off of the blind trust of an equally blind individual. Sure, it could’ve ended worse- taking into the fact that Dave clocked out in the freezing water and just so happened to wake up in the home of someone who didn’t want to kill them both.

 

Hopefully, that is.

 

“I’m okay, I just…” Dave takes a second, thinking of what Karkat had said. He pulled him to shore? The last thing he remembered from those dangerous waters was Karkat holding onto him for dear life, fighting against the current and his rapidly diminishing air supply before the world became blank.

 

Karkat fought to keep him alive. What was that supposed to mean?

 

Dave shrugs away the question. “I just keep thinkin’ of weird shit is all.”

 

“Weird shit?”

 

“Yeah. Y’know, like those moments where everything normal up until your mind decides to say things like, ‘wonder what it’d be like to phase through lava’ or ‘what does my cryptic dream about my friend mean’. Shit that makes you really think about how god awful your brain is at distracting you.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Karkat waves his hands up, scrunching his nose and taking a breath. “Back it the fuck up a bit. Cryptid dreams? Phasing through lava? Did water leak in your mental cavity? I feel like you’re avoiding the actual subject and throwing whatever garbage you can spew out to distract from the subject- I’m legitimately worried about you, fuckhead.”

 

“I’m not distracting from anything. I’m finer than a new prostitute in May- she’s all up in the brothel surrounded by some son-bitches looking for a good time. She shows her ankles once and boom! A whirlwind of ecstasy and middle-aged hard-ons everywhere.”

 

Karkat gives out a loud groan, grabbing at Dave’s shoulders. “Stop ignoring the subject! Are you actually okay!?”

 

“Aww, Pooch, do you care about me?”

 

“Stop acting like it’s a joke! You were passed out for so fucking long, I thought you were dead. I thought I couldn’t save you and you’re just dodging this shit like it’ll slide with me!? What you did could’ve gotten you killed, you fucking dumbass!”

 

Dave is about to laugh. He is about to fall to the bed and tease Karkat about how cute it is that he’s worried. He is about to call Karkat adorable and rustle his hair. But, he looks into his eyes. They are hurt, emotions translucent behind the angry tears hiding in its corners.

 

Genuine longing for another is one thing he understood, but concern? Concern was a joke that he thought he’d never get. After all, who gives a fuck about Dave Strider?

 

Karkat. Karkat gives a fuck.

 

Instead of laughing, his smile drops. He wipes the tears from Karkat’s eyes with his thumbs. “Hey...hey. I’m okay. You don’t gotta worry, okay?”

 

With hesitation, he pulls the one person who cared enough to bring him to shore into the warmth of a hug. Karkat returns it. All is almost good.

 

Until Dave remembers a certain problem.

 

“Shit… Karks, we’re still in Derse. Those guards are probably looking for us.”

 

Karkat pulls away, his protective nature returning once more. “Then we have to go! I’m not gonna let you get captured by some royal jerkoff or his guards.”

 

“Not to mention I gotta get home, Bro’s probably gonna be pissed that I’m a few days late for a four-day trip.”

 

They stand, Dave opening the door for Karkat. A living room is seen, but instead of a standard area with nice seating and a fireplace, Terezi lounges upon a big ass dragon.

 

How does one come back from that? Picture the situation: a heart-to-heart conversation with your no-homo-bromo bought you two closer together, and you prepare to end your adventures in favor of getting to the “safety” of your hometown; to which the universe decides to twist your nutsack into the fifth realm by going “yeah, a dragon should be here at this exact time and place”.

 

It isn’t exactly an inappropriate time for dragons considering that Terezi _did_ mention a dragon,  but that doesn’t keep Karkat and Dave from freaking the fuck out.

 

Karkat lets out a loud _yelp_ while Dave grabs onto him and starts backing away. The dragon takes a lazy glance at them for only a moment before falling back asleep.

 

“Well hellooo, tweedle dumb and dumber!” Terezi giggles, patting the head of her lazy scaled beast. “No need to fear Pyral, it’s her nap time.”

 

“WHY THE FUCK IS THERE-”

 

“Do you know what a nap means, shorty mcshouts? It means she’s sleeping, so watch your fucking language!” Petting the dragons head lovingly, Pyral seems to only wake up more. “Good job, you woke her up. How does it feel to interrupt a service animal's well-deserved rest? Is it fun, you sick bastard?”

 

Karkat growls at the row of teasing insults. “I think I’m justified to be shocked at the fucking hell-beast being in front of me, you blind whore!”

 

In response, Terezi only laughs. The current quarrel could get rather ugly if they’re not careful- specifically considering the fact that Karkat looks as if he’s on the verge of biting her. Albeit, he definitely would if it weren’t Dave’s ability to hold him back.

 

“Calm, calm, stop, oh my God.”

 

“I’d listen to your boyfriend, Kumquat! You don’t want a so-called hell-beast to vore you, do you?”

 

“Your days are numbered, c-” Before Karkat can say another word, Dave covers his mouth. The current insult becomes muffled behind his fingers.

 

Terezi pouts. “Oh c’mon, it was starting to get fun!”

 

“I’d love to let y’all rip each other to pieces, but we gotta head out. My bro’s probably pissed that I’m not home right now.”

 

The universe decides to give the dragon a purpose. Yes, there is an actual reason the dragon is here. Not for world-building, not for a gag, not even because the author enjoys dragons. This dragon has a purpose in this plot, so sit down, shut up, and enjoy a scene full of this motherfucking dragon.

 

Said dragon stands up, heading to the door. Terezi smiles at her. “She’ll escort you, then.”

 

“I’m sorry, what?” Dave finally lets go of Karkat, who remains close to his side.

 

“Do you REALLY expect us to get home on that thing!?” Karkat immediately shouts out.

 

“Well, if you wanna get home at all, I suggest that you suck it up! After all, it’s not like Derse knights can actually get you when you’re on Pyral. She’s fast too, will get you home in about ten hours.”

 

There is a moment left for Dave to ponder. Was he REALLY about to set foot on a dragon's back? A big, scary, sharp-toothed, deadly dragon’s back? The simple thought of it was terrifying, but then again, his fate without the dragon would end much worse; Bro’s impatience leads to grizzly outcomes.

 

So, once outside, he got on the dragon. Karkat followed, despite his obvious discomfort.

 

The two were sent off in an instant with only one command from Terezi, a whirlwind of dust and air vacating as she darted swiftly through the woods. The speed didn’t make them fly off somehow. Rushing past the trees at this speed was almost serene if it weren’t for the deafening thoughts staining Dave’s mind.

 

_Who was Karkat looking for?_

 

They would be here for a while. “So...what are your plans?”

 

“What?”

 

“Like, after I go home, you gotta do somethin’. Echnid doesn’t exactly like werewolves, so I doubt that you can kick it with me for awhile.”

 

Karkat pauses, thinks, and finally responds with, “I’ve got people I’m looking for.”

 

“Sweet. Is it friends?”

 

“You and Kanaya are my only friends, jackass. I’m looking for my old pack.”

 

Dave raises his eyebrows. Karkat had mentioned his pack before- himself casually wondering whether or not they were as scary as the other had described. With the context, Dave’s dream began to shine through with new meaning.

 

“Well, shit. If you don’t mind me asking, why look for 'em? Miss your family?”

 

“They’re _not_ my family!” The sudden harshness of Karkat’s tone takes Dave back. “Family doesn’t leave you for dead, family doesn’t drag you down when you’re weak, family doesn’t force you on your own cause they’re tired of you. Kanaya is family, my old pack is filled with shit headed dick nozzles!”

 

Words that hadn’t left his mouth faded into nothingness as the shouting took full throttle. _They’re not my family_. The words sink to the bottom of a sea of repressed thoughts and feelings, a pit of awful and putrid truths to soon be hidden under its murky waves. They hit home for a moment before reaching the end of his gut and allowing Dave to speak up.

 

“That sucks, man.” His voice cracks. “Why look for them, then?”

 

“I have my reasons, you have yours. It’s not that important, you’re leaving.”

 

“I..what? ‘Course it’s important to me, it’s not like I’ll never see you again, right?”

 

“...”

 

“...Right, Karkat?”

 

“Your town doesn’t like werewolves, Dave.”

 

“So? That doesn’t mean I won’t visit you. I don’t really have that many people to come home to.”

 

“You’re not getting it, are you?” Karkat hugs his knees, looking away from him. “You’re being raised under the best hunter in your hometown, meaning you’re next in line to hunt. I’m a werewolf. As much as I want to be around you, I just can’t.”

 

“Karks…” Dave attempts to put a hand on his shoulder, but it is quickly swatted away. “Karkat, I’d never hurt you.”

 

“But I might!”

 

“That’s not true. You wouldn’t.”

 

“My fledgling-ship ends this full moon and I don’t know how I’m gonna keep myself from hurting everyone! I’m leaving to find my old pack because sticking with those dickheads is better than hurting you!”

 

“That doesn’t mean you have to just leave…”

 

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna end up having to put me down? Do you want to see me as the monster I-”

 

“You’re _not_ a monster!” Dave grabs his shoulders and looks Karkat in the eyes. “You’ve never been a monster and you’ll never be a monster. Karkat, I’d be dead without you. You saved me and I don’t think I can ever fully repay you.”

 

“Even if that’s true, I already can’t control myself on a full moon! I can’t hurt you!”

 

“I don’t give a shit!”

 

“Why not!?”

 

“Because I NEED you!” Dave stops. Breath becomes lost on him, as does the crushing reality of what he’s been missing. An ugly truth rises to the surface and to his dismay, he can do absolutely nothing to stop it.

 

It bubbles, and gurgles out a simple statement: _Without Karkat, I have no one._

 

With only a few days of knowing Karkat paired with a life of emptiness, Dave just couldn’t take being alone again.

 

Thankfully, Karkat seems to understand this.

 

They lay on the back of Pyral, holding each other tenderly as the hours slip away into the oncoming sunset. Although questions still linger upon the tip of their tongues and the edge of their lips, not a word escapes them. There is only a peaceful silence between them where nothing stays as nothing. There is only Dave holding Karkat and vise versa. There is only a mutual feeling of connection.

 

As the hours are chipped away with only minutes left, Dave finally breaks the silence. “Do you have to leave?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Will you ever come back?”

 

“For your dumbass,” Karkat chuckles, brushing back a strand of hair from Dave’s face. “I’d do anything.”

 

Dave holds his hand before the strand can be tucked safely behind his ear. “The full moon can’t be that bad, right? I mean, you can probably get the hang of it pretty damn quick.”

 

“I’ll get there at some point. Just try not to forget me, okay Dave?”

 

He pauses, daring to look into Karkat’s crimson eyes. “I promise.”

 

Pyral slows to a stop in front of the town’s entrance. Leaning her entire body to the ground allows the boys to successfully jump off together. As soon as they hit the ground, she went off in the direction of her home. Despite the sudden rumble of her running, Karkat’s fingers stay intertwined with Dave’s. Dave can feel hesitation in the way Karkat pulls back his hand.

 

“I guess this is goodbye.”

 

“Yeah…at least I met you at all, right?”

 

“Fuck yeah!” Karkat, putting on an obviously saddened smile. “Good luck. You better be alright by the time I come back, asshole.”

 

The hug they share lasts as long as it can. If one were to ask how Dave felt in that moment, he’d respond, “I miss the mutt already. He’s a pain in the ass, sure, but he’s MY pain in the ass. He’s gonna do great”. Sheer reality is a tad different. A fully honest answer would sound much more like, “He gives me this feeling and I don’t want it to stop but he’s going and I can’t fuckin’ stop him. It sucks, I want him to stay, I NEED him to stay. There’s so much I still wanna talk to him about, but he’s leaving me. I don’t even know why I feel like this, it doesn’t make any goddamn sense.”

 

As they part, what Dave actually said is eschewed from both phrases.

 

“See ya later, Pooch.”

  


After sunset, Echnid is normally quiet due to the fear of beasts lurking around the surrounding woods. It was never dead silent, however; there was always one family in his town having a loud argument, and the tavern was usually bustling at this hour. Why tonight of all nights? Dead silence only allowed the ever growing loneliness sink in.

 

His home- always adorned with the disgusting hyde of something unknown - stands in the center of town. Bro’s job as the main hunter made him important enough to gain such a status. A status that Dave would likely have to uphold, much to his own dismay.

 

The door looms over him like a lion views its prey. With such hesitation and fear, he was almost surprised that he was able to get the door open so quickly.

 

That feeling was immediately crushed by the absolute horror show waiting for him on the other side. Broken glass, ripped furniture, shattered picture frames, and the faint scent of something burnt greeted him when entering the place he called home. It was as if a tornado ripped through the household. Bro was gone; Dave concluded this after frantically searching for him.

 

He sunk to the floor, shaking, barely holding himself back from sobbing. “He’s gone. He’s fucking _gone_!”

 

 _What would Bro do right now?_ Dave had to ask himself this question many times. The answer to such a statement would probably be, “complain about the mess” or “fight Dave for letting this happen”, however, Dave put himself in the perspective of his guardian. He stood, choked back his panic painfully, and went to his own room.

 

His room seemed untouched, save for the Dersite flag standing in its center. It waves faithfully in the wind, said breeze originating from his open window. Attached to the flag was a paper written in ink.

 

_To all remaining Striders:_

 

_The eldest of you lot dared to defy me. Therefore, you all will be punished- hunted down like the deranged animals you truly are. Derek fled like a coward: it is only a matter of time before you rats meet your destined end. This is your only warning._

 

_Signed,_

 

_King Ampora._

  


Karkat, strolling solemnly down the shifting road, came to his own conclusions. One, that whether physically or emotionally, humans would rip his heart out. Two, that no one would ever seem to stay with him, even if he wanted them to.

 

Sad but, in his case, completely true.

 

The sun would be setting soon, and in about 15 minutes he’d be left with a stomach-turning transformation. In about four days, the full moon would rise and he would be reduced to nothing but a horrible beast; roaming the land to kill and destroy anything in his path. A fate like that could lead anyone to be glad they were alone.

 

Not Karkat, though. It was important that Dave remained unharmed, but fuck. Dave’s safety was more important than his own happiness, but that didn’t change the fact that it hurt like a bitch to think about.

 

Thundering footsteps came down the road. One could assume that a one-on-one interception could be daunting at best and deadly at worst, but the subject of the person who tackles him to the ground could lead to other conclusions. Speaking of which, Karkat is tackled to the ground by a certain boy he’s trying to protect.

 

A certain boy that would bring Karkat to a third conclusion: one and two were completely and utterly wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12 pages. 12 fucking pages. I'm so sorry that this is coming out later than I wanted, but then again I rewrote this three times before actually getting it how I wanted. I know this chapter was dialogue heavy this time around but tried my best not to make it boring. Yes, I did almost make them kiss in this chapter. Yes, they will kiss at some point. 
> 
> Question of the chapter: did you miss our boys budding romance? If so, is the romance convincing?
> 
> Please,,,,please comment. This is the longest chapter I've written for this fic and I'm riding off of feedback and coffee creamer.


	10. Feelings Red, Instincts Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave isn't gay nor is he crazy
> 
> ....
> 
> right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back.... back again

_ There are only two things in the world that don’t exist: ghosts and a Strider that loses. _ If Dave repeated the phrase Bro had once told him when he was young, maybe he would start to believe it more.

 

Dave Strider, brash, brave, and 100% straight wandered the woods with his emotional support werewolf. It was four days until the next full moon- which also marked as the end of Karkat’s relatively tame fledgling-ship. Symptoms such as a more irritable attitude, increased hair growth, teething, sore muscles, and squirrel chasing were apparently a part of the whole “kicking it with a werewolf” gig. Still, it’s nothing that Dave couldn’t manage.

 

What Dave really couldn’t manage was keeping a chill attitude against the pure paranoia overshadowing his rational thoughts.

 

The dense woods put them in the position of hidden solitude, which was fine until Dave started seeing things. Every now and again he’d see something blue in his peripheral vision. Him being a Strider by heart, he’d always stand at the ready for any attack that would be sure to come at him.

 

Then Karkat would tug at his ear. “There’s nothing there, jackass, c’mon.”

 

Over and over again, Karkat was there to keep him sane. Sometimes it was through love and care.

 

“I’ll be here to protect you, you’re safe with me.”

 

Other times it was lightly veiled irritation.

 

“Do you want me to hold your fucking hand?”

 

Occasionally it was straight up irritation.

 

“Let me hold your FUCKING hand.”

 

Needless to say, they were holding hands at this point in time. Dave knew he was irritated by all the paranoia, just as he was irritated by literally everything else. It was a strangely comforting feeling. Karkat absolutely couldn’t hide what he felt for the life of him. The simple act of knowing what this walking-talking fluff ball was feeling was enough to ease Dave’s overreacting nerves.

 

Well, almost. 

 

Dave saw it again. In the corner of his eye, something clad in blue peeked out, and once again he was ready to fight. He unsheathed his sword, managing to stand strong as his fingers trembled beneath the hilt.

 

_ I’m not shaking. I’m not scared- It’s just tremors. _

 

Quickly, he felt the warmth of Karkat’s hand on his.

 

“Dave, for the last time, there’s no one there!”

 

“I saw someone!” Dave insisted, “There was someone peeking around the tree. I’m not fucking crazy, okay?”

 

Begrudgingly, Karkat sniffed at the air. “It’s still just us. If it'll make your hypersonic spaz-weasel idiot brain more promptly reassured, do you wanna sit? Cause we can just take a break. Exhaustion can promptly fuck with both the dim-witted and the actually competent, so don’t give me some bullshit of you not needing to rest cause you’re a “Strider”, whatever that means.”

 

From the bottom of his stomach, Dave felt as if dread would swallow him whole. The forest had so many potentials for danger. Resting here could not only leave them open to any half-assed ambush that even a malformed squirrel could conjure up, but he’d fail to properly protect his companion. Merely thinking of such a happenstance wrought a feeling too overwhelmingly pitiful to allow him to think on it for very long, so once again he shook his head.

 

If you were to ask Dave Strider why he was so jumpy and defensive, he wouldn’t say anything. Instead, he would flat out ignore you and manage to convince himself that no, he wasn’t jumpy nor was he defensive. The mere suggestion of such a thing was absolute slander his Bro would smack him upside the head for letting anyone even think he was somewhat vulnerable.

 

“Why are you being so jumpy and defensive?”

 

Karkat would be an exception to this, however. “Just….thinkin’ too hard about it. Shits setting me off, we have way too many blind spots in this place. We’re gonna get attacked.”

 

For a moment, Dave can feel the very essence of his being wanting to crawl away. Showing weakness, hesitation, fear, or yielding could become a hunter’s death sentence. For Dave, his imagination was put in the context of him hunting down dangerous beasts, but one could assume that he was more terrified of the expectation not being reached than the potential death.

 

Of course, Karkat found a way to calm him. “Let’s just camp out, it’s almost sundown so I recommend that we start getting our shit together before I lose the use of my opposable thumbs.”

 

“Yeah….yeah, that sounds good.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Sundown came too quick. Karkat was already in his wolven form before Dave could manage to conjure up a fire, the darkness making his own heart drop for just a moment. Now they sat in a dimly illuminated clearing. It was small, but Dave hadn’t had any time to gather materials for anything bigger. The twigs crackled lightly under the tiny flame it somehow managed to keep thriving.

 

Karkat seemed to offer to go get something from the woods himself, but Dave didn’t let him go.

 

After all, he wouldn’t let his Karkat get hurt- he was too scared to send him off on his own.

 

They laid there in silence, Dave finding it both relieving and relaxing to pet Karkat’s fur. He was noticeably bigger now. Sure- he was a relatively big boy before but because of the beckoning and beastly full moon around the corner, he was now twice as large. This, of course, was a good thing.

 

God, he loved this. There was no getting around it; Dave loved being around Karkat. It was like a warm blanket was wrapped around him with Karkat nearby. Of course, this wasn’t in a weird way. Absolutely not! One could enjoy someone’s company without the compulsory need to kiss them and suck their dick.

 

He should really stop thinking about this.

 

Dave begins to ease himself into sleep. He’d rather doze off than have to face off with the thought of Karkat, back in his human form, Karkat’s lips and god damn it he was thinking about it again. Sitting up and pacing is better, yes. Guard the perimeter! Perfect! Busy work could keep gay thoughts away. Being on edge is leagues better than the thought of Karkat and his curly hair. Karkat and his stupid button nose. Karkat and his dumb, kinda kissable lips if he were a girl. 

 

The perimeter. Mind on the perimeter.

 

He trailed along the edge of the clearing until his legs were sore. He could feel the bags under his eyes being pulled down by the weight of his shitty decision. Why? Why did he have to be like this? Sleeping right now would be so awesome, were it not for his mind trailing off to desirable but highly inappropriate (as well as probably illegal from how Bro described it) thoughts.

 

It was then that blue had entered the scene. This time, however, it was not in his peripheral vision. Right in front of Dave was a spirit; wrapped in flowing blue cloth, its face was hidden behind a pitch black mask. The wind picked up, thrashing the tops of trees and nearly flinging him back like a discarded toy. 

 

_ You need to act. _

 

Not thinking to awaken his partner, Dave sprung into action, sword drawn from its sheath. With every swing came a very close dodge from his adversary- whom strangely did not fight back. 

 

_ Hold your temper. _

 

Dave bites his tongue before he could allow an aggravated grunt to leave his throat. It was getting close, but his limbs ached and begged him to stop.

 

_ If you stop, you’ll die. _

 

Dave can feel exhaustion overtaking him. The violent wind pushes him away from the clearing.

 

_ If you stop, he’ll die. _

 

Adrenaline rushes through his entire body and he jumps. The momentum from the trees along with the updraft launches him forward- spinning and turning until the hilt of his sword makes contact with the spirits mask. It lets out a loud  _ crack _ before falling to the ground, now in two halves. The wind stops completely.

 

This wasn't a spirit. It was a boy, about his age, now cussing loudly about the freshly made gash in his forehead.

 

“Fucking  _ ow _ !!!” He exclaimed. “You didn’t have to hit so hard, what the hell!?”

 

“You….I…..what?” Dave, for lack of a better word, is confused to hell and back. What the hell was that all about? First stalking, then fighting, and now he’s asking why Dave had the nerve to fight back?

 

The boy in blue settles down from his small fit, taking in a deep breath before letting it out. “Sorry for all the trouble but I kinda don’t like people being in my woods.”

 

“So you stalk them till they leave?”

 

“Eh, it usually gets them scared enough to flee, but you and Kumquat are two stubborn assholes.”

 

“Holy shit, was that your best attempt at pronouncing his name? How the hell do you even know his name in the first place?”

 

He crosses his arms. “Your names are mentioned in conversation literally every other sentence. Kind of hard to not know your names, Dave.”

 

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair. His name is Karkat though, try not to mispronounce it in front of him unless you want a full-length speech on “why you’re a dick eating moldy bread slice that wouldn't know pronunciation and grammar if it looked you in the eye and spat in your face”. Believe me, you don’t wanna get him started about it.”

 

The boy rolls his eyes but finishes it with a goofy grin. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m John, by the way!”

 

John shakes his hand in such a way that make Dave feel that his arm is gonna get yanked off. He shakes it, chuckles, and rubs his own arm very slowly as to not bring attention to the sudden soreness to this new face.

 

“So, how come you wanted to kick us out so bad? Afraid of us like wrecking the forest? Like one of those story villains that’ll take down sacred nature in order to build a street and dump their remaining shit in the local river, killing cute lil fish in the name of industrialization and you’re a fairy just out here saying “hey, can you like, not be an asshole” and we’re like “sounds interesting, no”  so you’re wrecking our shit so we can’t do it back?”

 

“I have literally no idea what you just said!”

 

“Yeah, I get that a lot”

 

“Anyways, no I’m not trying to kick you out for the sake of the forest! That’s completely unnecessary and kind of stupid.”

 

“Aight then why?”

 

“Cause the forest wants to kill you.”

 

“...what?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been way too long but im so happy to be back in the game!!!! I refuse to let this fic DIE. Tell me what y'all think! It's definitely shorter than what I'm used to but in this house We Make Due. 
> 
> Question of the chapter: what do you think goes on in Karkat's head when he thinks of Dave? Don't forget to comment! All feedback is highly appreciated.


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